One of the particular idiosyncracies of the hospital where I currently reside, eat, and work in is the 'death list'. The death list is the process in which all the patients who have died are read out and respective teams are asked to state where the death was 'expected' or 'unexpected'. The queerest part of the process to me is the strange and unexpected responses people have. In most cases the expected deaths are received almost joyously, whilst those which are seemingly 'unexpected' are met with a mixture of surprise, horror, interest and general muttering. Personally I find there is an inexplicable desire to doodle during the death list. Strange feeling to think that one day I exist only as a list of personal details to be muttered about in a room of 30-40 strangers. Hospitals are weird.