That. There. Those two things. That's precisely what they smell like. With a vague undercurrent of sick and ozone from oxygen type machines.
I mean...hospital. It's a wonderful place. Where you shall be staying while I smirk at you and type this out, and then read it back to you for good measure, because I believe that you should stay here. You and your mighty and plentiful brains that didn't metaphorically leak out of your cracked skull. Cheeeeeers.