Fortunately, neither of my kids have serious long-term health problems, and Mr. Andi and I are both healthy, too. I would say “I don’t know how they do it,” referencing parents whose children do have serious problems, but that wouldn’t be true, because…you do what you gotta do. I’m proof of that.
But since Nathan’s had two hospital stays so far this year, the aggravation of time in the hospital is fresh on my mind, and since I’ve been suffering from an inability to think very deeply since, oh…Februaryish, I’m gonna give you a rundown of all the reasons I hate hospital stays, rather than a deep post on a complex ethical subject.
You’re welcome. 🙂
And I do find it (hilariously? bitterly? strangely?) ironic that I’m posting this list on the same day that I have a call scheduled with a lady from Children’s of Alabama to interview me about the kids and how they may fit into their “Child of Children’s” campaign. And yes, I do think she’ll probably read this so let it be known that my first world complaints are in no way a reflection of the care received at Children’s of Alabama. Three stays at three different hospitals in thirteen months tells me that hospital aggravation is universal.
Five reasons I loathe hospital stays:
1. Terrible pillows. Seriously. Back in December of 2002, when I was laying only on my left side for several days trying to stave off premature labor, the most painful part of the week was…trying to get comfortable on that wretched hospital pillow. A decade later, I think the pillows may be even worse.
2. The inability to practice any semblance of personal dignity. That’s a given when you’re the patient, but it’s true for the parent sleeping in, as well. I slept in the bed with Nathan (having learned my lesson about “guest accommodations” during the Chickenpox Outbreak of 2012 and Sleep Study 2013), which meant having strangers lean over me while wearing my pajamas, fumbling in the semidarkness at 2:00 am for the IV on his foot or the arm to check his blood pressure or what-have-you.
3. Multiple people coming in all through the night – checking vitals, asking questions, changing out IV medications, turning alarms off. It’s brutal. My personal fave, though, was the nursing assistant who wanted to know at 1:00 am if he’d had any bowel movements that night. Um, I don’t know. He’s wearing a diaper. I changed him before bedtime and I don’t plan to do it again until morning.Â
4. Beeps, thumps, and alarms. The IV machine beeps, the pulse-ox meter alarms. Like, every time Nathan would roll over or reposition himself in some way, the pulse-ox meter alarmed. And the thumping? I think it was the IV machine but I never knew for sure. And all of those beeping-thumping-alarming machines have displays that shine brightly during the night, too.
5. Doctors-in-training. Okay, so I know residents are “real” doctors but I can’t bring myself to wholly accept them until they’ve figured out a few things. Like why it’s not cool to flip all the lights on and just start talking at 6:00 am when the patient and his mother are fast asleep (finally and miraculously!) No “good morning” or “sorry to wake you”. I love Children’s of Alabama, but…I don’t love that they are located right next door to a prestigious medical school.
PREACH IT!! Gosh this is so true. I’m going to add the amount of time it takes to get food to your room in a big hospital. Being on video when your child gets a VEEG and you can’t help but cry on video which gets you a visit from the nurse which is a little embarrassing. Rounding NEAR your chid, as in talking about him close enough to overhear but not close enough to be included. The moment the anesthesiologist makes you feel like you’re giving your son experimental medicine (I’ve never heard of that. Not sure what to do about it.) umm……it’s not experimental and you’re going to need to figure it out.
So very much with you on this journey. I will also say that I’ve had awesome doctors and nurses who have made me feel competent and respected my role as parent.
Good luck.
#5 is why I don’t schedule anything in July/August if I can help it. Everyone is too new to the game. It’s not cool with me. I had an ortho follow up and the resident came in and asked me if I was ready to have my plates removed. When I said no he asked me why I was there then. What was my chief complaint. I’m not sure he realized he was in the CP clinic for the day.
I make friends with every doctor, nurse, PT, office assistant, etc that I like. I like them, they like me, they make things more pleasant for me, which includes telling residents “you need to wait for your attending before you do anything”
True story: When Sarah Kate was about 18 months old, we saw her neurologist for the first time. It was at clinic at CofA, so we had the obligatory resident (I’ll call him the pre-doctor) in the room and it was – you guessed it – in late June. Pre-doctor came in first and asked 100 ridiculous questions, then when the neuro came in he came back in with her. She obviously wanted him to learn from the experience, so she let him do a good bit of initial questioning. After several maddeningly ridiculous questions, she turned to him, smiled pleasantly, and said, “That’s a great thought process. However, in this case (turns back to us)…” I still laugh about that because it was so obvious that he was convinced he was going to “find the cure” for Sarah Kate and she so politely and pleasantly put the smackdown on him. 🙂