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Three Hospital Thoughts for Thursday

Three Hospital Thoughts for Thursday

Hiram is up and at ’em after Tuesday’s back surgery to remove the disk fragment pressing on his sciatic nerve. Since the source of his back pain was a disk fragment from the ruptured L4 vertebrae that migrated to the L3 region, I think 3 hospital thoughts for Thursday are in order. Here goes:

  1. We are very thankful for modified laprascopic neurosurgery and gifted surgeons who perform them. Thank you, Dr. Brandenberg!
  2. Nurses really are the worst patients. Especially if they’re incarcerated being treated in the hospital where they work.
  3. Caring for a post-surgery spouse in the hospital is much easier than caring for a post-surgery newborn, toddler, preschooler, or adolescent child. May you never be able to make the comparison!

Do you have something to say about a recent hospital experience, either as patient or caregiver? Leave a comment!

Top 10 Reasons to Avoid Hospitals at 6 AM

Top 10 Reasons to Avoid Hospitals at 6 AM

Hiram’s surgery was at 7:30 this morning, but he had to be at the hospital at 6:00. With our early arrival, I quickly discovered 10 good reasons to avoid the hospital at such an early hour. Here goes!

10.   The parking valets look like they’re either about to fall asleep from boredom or like they just woke up. In either case, should they be driving other people’s cars?

9.     One trades a stunning sunrise for the glare of florescent lights. What a way to greet the dawn!

8.    Television programming isn’t good enough to distract a patient worried about going under the knife in a few minutes.

7.    Laymen can’t be sure if the docs and nurses are wearing scrubs or PJs.

6.    Most people aren’t yet on Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest, so it’s hard to find virtual thumbs up encouragement.

5.    I’m not yet at my best for extreme hospital sports like hallway wheelchair races and the scalpel toss.

4.    Walking the hospital hallways for exercise on a gorgeous June morning just doesn’t cut it.

3.    The snack bar isn’t open yet.

2.    Worse yet, the coffee shop (and it’s a good one) isn’t open yet either.

1.    Who wants to be anywhere at 6:00 in the morning, especially in a hospital?

Now it’s your turn. Why do you avoid hospitals at 6:00 AM?

The Waiting Room – Recycled

The Waiting Room – Recycled

This weekend, the check engine light came on in my car. Turned out the gas cap just needed tightening. But the idea of a long stay in the service waiting area got me thinking of a post written a few years back. See what you think of this comparison between the contemporary service station waiting room experience to waiting for a loved one who’s undergoing surgery.

The Waiting Room

I took my car to the dealership for its 30,000 mile service check today. The service manager met me at the front desk and assured me he would take good care of my automobile. Then he ushered me into the waiting area, and I settled in for what I thought would be a pleasant wait. Instead, it was unnerving. Even ludicrous.

Every so often a service technician came in, announced a name, and a car owner raised a hand. If the news was devastating, the technician went to sit beside the owner. “Mrs. Smith, we’ve completed the diagnostic tests, and we found a big problem.” If everything had gone as planned, the technician stood in front of the owner and announced happily.  “We completed the procedure and everything is good as new.” Once in a while someone carried a car part into the waiting area and knelt beside the anxious customer. “The preliminary examination was inconclusive. So far we’ve found this,” he would hold up a dusty or broken car part, “but we’re not sure we got everything. Do you want us to do more?”

The grave expressions on the technicians’ faces and their deference toward their customers, including me, freaked me out. Was I in a car dealership or a hospital? Were they working on my car or my kid? Since when did taking a car in for repairs become as heart wrenching as taking a child to surgery? And did those service technicians perfect their bedside manners by watching soap operas or what?

The whole episode seemed like a Saturday Night Live comedy sketch. Except I couldn’t find the humor in it. I don’t want my car repair experience to mimic the gravity of serious medical treatment. But that’s what it felt like they were doing.

Maybe I’m too sensitive. Maybe the whole thing brought back too many memories of the days we spent in hospital waiting rooms. All I know is that from now on, I want to sit on a pile of tires in the greasy corner of a dimly lit garage, drinking a bottle of pop with Opie and Gomer while Goober services my car.

Human life is sacred and worthy of gravity and deference.
My car most certainly is not.