I have spent some time in hospital recently visiting a relative. The patient journey is taxing: private experience is forcibly drawn out onto a public stage, risking the patient's dignity, and the NHS's size and functional specialisation - and medicine's complex domain - makes for differing and hard-to-understand information presented by different specialists across a long period of time. So the "patient" is well-named: the word goes back to enduring, staying in a place, waiting. (It has to be said though that the healthcare professionals we've encountered so far have been very good indeed.)
This notion of enduring/staying in a place brought to mind a dimly-remembered Heidegger essay on building and dwelling and then Le Corbusier's famous "a house is a machine for living in". Could architecture and medicine be happily combined in a short story? Could we start to graft the two together, turning the body into a machine for building with? Here's a first and tentative draft for a sub-Calvino story, on Masochuticon: Fracture. The first line is a quote, and the story's critical structural weakness is that there is no story there yet! Like the patient, I must now endure - and wait to see if this story gets better.
Heidegger in 'Building Dwelling Thinking' (1951):
What, then, does Bauen, building, mean? The Old English and High German word for building, buan, means to dwell. This signifies: to remain, to stay in a place. The real meaning of the verb bauen, namely, to dwell, has been lost to us. But a covert trace of it has been preserved in the German word Nachbar, neighbor.