Hospitals

Today's entry is brought to you by the letters O and R.

Yes, I spent this beautiful sunny, seventy-degree Autumn day in the OR... or the OR waiting room to be more precise.  The day has finally come for my mom to have her wobbly hip replaced with a smoother sleeker model.  My family has a great amount of experience with our local hospital, but here are a few new insights I gleaned from today's visit:

• In the past, our local hospital always had a lingering scent of urine perfumed throughout the hallways.  Not lingering, that's putting it too mildly.  The heavy-handed, as if hosed on from curtain to floor tile, stench of urine.  Well, thankfully that smell has been replaced with the scent of rubbing alcohol.  BTW, I prefer the rubbing alcohol if anyone's taking a poll.  Cheers from my nostrils to whomever implemented that improvement.
• Eight hours at work is equivalent to eight hours as a visitor in a hospital.  Yes, you're mostly just sitting in a chair in a poorly lit room and periodically moving your feet to let nurses, IVs and food carts pass through.  But, it's just as draining somehow.
• Hospital food is awesome!  I can't say this about all hospitals (because I've tasted some food at some other hospitals. Blech!)  But, ours is a course in fine hospital dining.  Every time a family member is admitted here, one of my first thoughts (after the initial ones of concerns for health) is, "Ooh! I'm gonna get me a grilled cheese."  I have a thing for our hospital cafeteria's grilled cheese sandwiches.  Their mac and cheese was looking pretty tasty today too.  I might have to try that tomorrow.
• There has always been a patient screaming down the hallway, there will always be a patient screaming down the hallway.  And, yes, today there was a patient screaming down the hallway!  I wonder if it's that same patient.
• You will always overhear someone else's confidential patient information.  Those divider curtains are hardly made of brick and mortar.  I heard alot today.  Alot.  I also learned that the physical therapist is next-door neighbors with my mom's hospital roommate.  And, the PT didn't even know she lived next door!  Confidential?  Not anymore!
• Doctors may not look like doctors these days.  An orderly walked into the recovery room.  I know this because his arms were covered in the kind of gangster tattoos guys get in their late teens/early twenties to prove their machismo.  Oh wait, why is the orderly shaking my hand?  Because he's the anesthesiologist according to his introduction (and the color-coded scrub chart on the wall that I checked for additional proof.)  And, he's a jokester (as in, while checking my mom's heart, "Yep, it's still there!" Or also, as in some other joke that was too corny for me to remember.)  Tattooed, pranky anesthesiologist with a goatee?  Eh, depends on the mood.
• The nurse who gushes with the most friendliness in her voice is also the one most likely to forget to bring the patient her dinner menu (after promising it to her multiple times.)
• The other nurse is allergic to codeine.  I don't know why she told me this, but more proof that confidential medical information abounds.
• If the walker goes missing and a wild goose chase ensues, first check to see if it's folded up and resting against the wall right next to the patient's bed before ordering above mentioned wild goose chase.

I could also mention that the respiratory therapist "smoked everything under the sun" in the 60's and where he'll be vacationing next fall, but I'll save that information for a conversation that's a little more private.

Thank you for visting. We hope you enjoy your stay!