When my husband experienced a sudden loss of vision, we made a precarious visit the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. The explanation requires lots of words that spell-check doesn’t recognize, but suffice it to say, we had a scare.
Our schedule was filled with hours of waiting and intermittent appointments and tests. We waited in the lobby, lab, cafeteria, exam room, coffee shop, atrium, and elevator. The kind folks there know you’ll have some time on your hands, so they provide a few activities. There’s a grand piano in the atrium, and artwork of every variety adorns the walls and halls.
They’ve even curated artifacts for their museum, the Mayo Clinic Heritage Hall. Through brittle photos and dusty prescription bottles, each exhibit tells the story of the Mayo brothers, generous surgeons who founded the clinic.
Their story was interesting and well documented, but the exhibit that stood out to me was a modern display.
Behind the reception desk a back-lit sign glowed with the word HOPE at its center. Surrounding it, in smaller print, hope was translated into many different languages using different alphabets. It even included dots that represented Braille. {Read more…}
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