Rum 8 – Corridor of Life

Somewhere in the beginning of this journey, I was told that JK was also known as “the corridor of death”. If you are anyways going to die, does it matter whether the place needs a new coat of paint, that the smell of shit is the first to enter your nostrils when you walk through the door? I can’t speak for soldiers in a trench, but even they deserve some “honour”, wouldn’t you think? What about the people who work miracles in the trench EVERY DAY, for 50 YEARS? When I was forced to live five days in “the trench” and walk the corridor of death every day, I only whispered, when asked, that I work in the pharmaceutical industry. I was so scared that the staff were going to get ideas that converting is the answer, for anyone can convert if you set your mind to it.

Upon conversion, you may get your own phone, computer, flashy huge glass office windows, great food, air time in business class, time management freedoms and I don’t even want to talk about the pay check. There is always a sacrifice and a price to pay, though. You get to have all your patients on paper instead. However, like me, there may even be medically trained staff, who would do a better job working in this environment and become guardian/saving angels developing and marketing medicines to uphold life. But not all, or I am doomed. At the moment I don’t have the energy nor the capital to go to MD Anderson in Houston, Texas. However, I’m not interested in coming out as second best in this game, for I can only quote the great man William Shakespeare when he unfolds his wit in Richard II (1.1.182-185),

“Mine honour is my life, both grow in one. Take honour from me, and my life is done. Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live, and for that I will die”.

I have learned (from one company in the pharmaceutical industry, for which I am proud to say have been ranked as “Top Employer 2006” by Science magazine) that Clinical Trials do not need to cost me my “honour” and most expenses will be payed for. Hence, I may even be able to afford business class for the trans-Atlantic flight. Besides, I have a certain politician in Texas who I would be interested in looking up, should it come to that. My list of questions for him is pretty long as well. Maria, remember, you’re (still) blond, blue-eyed and Swedish so stick to the facts, seek first to understand

For the time being, I needn’t worry about not being a number one girl. For even questions regarding “quality of life” seem to have hit home, not only within industry, but also within Swedish socialism. I have been blessed with the corridor of life and my saviour is “Room 8“, a newly built part of JK where a three-month old shiny purple machine sits, for some ~20 million SEK (the amazing staff weren’t sure of the exact price and I forgive them). Interestingly, no one has taken any trouble to install a good sound system (perhaps that too costs 20 million SEK) so when I wish to listen to LOUD music by Hookjaw to help with my anger management, I get shit in my nostrils.

P.S. I know the drummer in Hookjaw and he’s coming to see me in Sweden! Perhaps he can help me in my campaign against stupidity?


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