Deaths waiting room

Forgive the dramatic title, I just have to clarify that death kept his hands away from the room I'm talking about. But the title struck me as I entered hour 2 of waiting.
But before we reach this epic room, a little background information.

I had just had a hectic 24 hours back home after visiting Gotland, an island off the coast of Sweden. I did a bit of laundry and packed my bags and left a bit of a mess for my temporary occupant of my domains.
As always I had all the time in the world...until I actually saw the time. I did make all connecting phases of the trip, but on the plane to Barcelona I felt my throat start to feel a bit iffy.
Sure enough, as I entered the apartment, the sickness was upon me. I popped a few non-prescription pills and hoped that the illness would go away, but it would turn out to be a wish as futile as a wish for a delayed train when you're running late.
The next 2,5 days I endured a fever and flu that had me sleeping with all my clothes on at one time and barely nothing on the next hour.
So after consulting my personal physician I went to the hospital.
After only 10 minutes there I was diagnosed with tonsilitis (halsfluss)
Great, just give me the pills and I'll be on my way.
Again, foolishly I hoped it would be a quick visit. Nope. 2,5 hours in a waiting room where I felt like an unwanted step child. I swear there were 4 spanish patiens to every tourist. Me and 2 girls from norway had to wait frickin' forever.
And when I get in, the doctor gives me the same diagnose, but he didn't inspire trust.
For example, he asked ME if the pills I had been taking were Ibuprofen based. Since I do check what kind of pills I take, I did know that they were and not paracetemol based. Shouldn't he know this kind of stuff???
Well, I was sent on my way with a few prescriptions, but being anti-drugs I only took out the prescribed antibiotics and nothing more.
So all in all, my vacation was left to fever, sleeping, solitaire indoors Disney channel (the only channel that wasn't dubbed) and Barca TV.

But back to the waiting room and the reason for all these lines. I can't really describe it all, but I can tell you what I felt.
I felt very exposed and bitter. The room had a very lound TV on showing something that I can only describe as a spanish "Bold and the beautiful". I was sick, in a foreign country and knew that I would most likely be spending the rest of my vacation in bed or at least indoors. And when you're sitting a small waiting room, all you can do is think, wait and sip some more of the water that you brought.
The only thing that brought a smile to my face for an instant was when I tought of a one picture strip by swedish writer Jan Stenmark.
It's a picture of a man sitting at the end of a bed with a noose in front of himself and he says to himself:
-What if the life after this is just as pointless?
Like I said, I was a little bitter....just a little.
I'm leaving out some of the other stuff that happened to try and wrap it up. I was so disappointed that I, on the last day, actually WANTED to go home from my vacation. That is definitly a first.
The sun is coming up however. I fished my antibiotics yesterday and had a couple of brews today. Sails high, wind turning and champagne cooling. Is there any other way to live?