That's supposed to mean "no more hospital, please" as I dust off my high school french...
Why? Read on.
So, at age 40.75, I had my first hospital experience as a patient last week.
Overall, I really can't recommend it to anyone.
I was in a freezing cold waiting room for over three hours, then in a bed in ER for another seven, most of which was spent just a curtain away from a hardcore drug addict whom, I'm told, is brought in about once a week when her neighbors call the police.
They couldn't get her to wake up, while at the same time they couldn't get her to stay laying down. Guess I'm glad she wasn't awake, as that would not have made my morning anymore pleasant.
They ran a large # of high tech tests on me, in hopes of figuring out why I was so sore I couldn't hardly stand up straight, and why my white cell count was aprox 3-4x the ideal level.
the transport guys would push me down a maze of hallways, and then leave my outside a seemingly random door, with a vague promise that someone would be seeing me shortly. I'd have a little doze there in the hallway, folks chatting with one another as they walked by. I felt invisible.
After the second or third such trip, I toyed with the idea of pulling my bedsheet up over my head while laying there in the hallway, just to see if anyone noticed. I hadn't slept in a couple nights by this point, so my judgement was probably not the best.
tests completed, blood drawn 3x already, urine analyzed, they finally admitted me. There were adult rooms on what had been their pediatric unit. So I had a pink room with giraffes painted on the walls outside my door. and big windows out into the hallway, designed for nurses to be able to keep an eye on the kids as they passed by, I assume.
Wasn't allowed food nor drink, had an IV plugged into crook of my elbow.
I'm right handed, so of course they stuck it on that side.
And then told me to try not to bend my arm.
For two days.
Oh, and I had to pee into a bottle, while wearing a hospital gown. But I couldn't bend my arm.
How many hands does it take to aim and hold a bottle, whilst lifting a hospital gown ? I think five would have been a good number, as long as at least three of the hands were attached to bendable arms. But I'm a bright lad, and figured things out.
As I'm of irish descent, big, and live in south suburban Chicago, I had to convince each doctor I spoke with that no, I'm really not an alcoholic, and wasn't out binge drinking miller lites while power eating bratwursts the night before, with all my alcoholic brat wurst eating buddies.
That got pretty old.
I was profiled!
I relayed this to a black co-worker, for the laughter I figured it would bring him. He thought it was hilarious.
Solidarity, brother.
We can't let the man keep us down.
when you're finally off food restriction, and allowed to eat again, you don't want it to be hospital food. Granted I had no appetite, even after going without food for three days, so I wasn't going to eat much. But even with such diminished needs and expectations, Saturday's breakfast fell way short.
Man, I really hope this is not a re-curring ailment, as it oftentimes can be....
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