The general hospital of Roraima was a white rectangular building right next to the city’s airport. Though the hospital was new, it was also in shambles. Trash was commonly found on the floors inside the building, the equipment was several decades dated, and the nurses had trouble speaking properly to the patients. Father had all of this in mind as he took the elevator to the third floor and went into the meeting room. The administrative team was already there, early somehow, as was the hospital director. Father felt a very clear pang of anxiety. He told himself it was rare for a doctor to be able to get the administration to listen to their concerns, he kept it in the back of his mind that he wasn’t really a people person and he was about to be talking to a lot of important people at once, he reminded himself of where he had come from and how he would never have imagined himself getting people’s attention back when he was in his village. He took some deep breaths, in and out, before his thoughts got to be too much.
To have even reached this point was a small sort of victory.
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