Hospitals...UGH!

I don't like hospitals. I really never have. I remember when I was a child, our neighbor was critically ill. Mom would go up to the hospital to see her. Incidentally, it was the same hospital where we have been this weekend with Dad (although they have built new parts to it). We would sit in the lobby while our mother would go up to see her. It seemed like HOURS. I don't know if it was or not...it just seemed that way.

Time seems to pass slower there, doesn't it?

Yesterday, Dad's surgery went rather "fast" (four hours). It didn't seem like long before the doc came out and told us all went well. What DID take long was the time between that visit and the time we could go back in and see him (about five hours). At five o'clock, it was painful to say the least to see him. They had not removed his breathing tube, but he was semi-coherent. He was fighting and very uncomfortable. Since family can only go in for 30 minutes at a time (and only four times a day) this made me want to fuss a bit: HOW long will he have to be in this discomfort? WHY do you let him lay in his bed and struggle like this? IS this good for the heart? DOES anyone care?

The nurse came in and started barking (and I do mean barking) in her "nails-on-the-chalkboard" patronizing voice, "Mr. C. you have to be at a 95 and you're too low! All that smoking you've done made your lungs not work so well. I wanted to take you off the monitors two hours ago, but we can't. You've got to settle down." All I could think was "Blah! Blah! Blah!" He was brushing her off with small motions of his hand...I am pretty sure this was his way of saying to us, "Get her the **** out of here!" She left.

We told him, you've got to relax and breathe so that they can take this tube out. We told him firmly but softly. He nodded and we left. When we told him we'd be back at 9:00, he looked at the clock. You could almost see him calculating that in his head. (I know he was medicated, but it was evident that there WAS some thought going on there.)

I called DS 1 (who is trained as an LPN) and DH (who has spent a lot of time in the CCU and asked him if it was right for her to be barking orders at him. I know they need to be firm. He, however, doesn't respond to that well. They both told us to call her out and just let her know. My stepmother, brothers and I did just that. The nurse listened to us and put up a wall in about two seconds (she just kept saying, "OK."

Of course, we wonder what happened until her shift was over.

We returned at 8:00 and another family in the waiting room told us they came out looking for us. Again, I wanted to SCREAM. They have my stepmother's cell phone number....WHY didn't they call??? She called to let them know that we were back in the hospital. The new nurse (Dave, I think) said they had taken the breathing tube out and that he would be out to get us as soon as possible (they were in the middle of something else).

We waited.

The family that was also waiting received a visit from their surgeon who bluntly came into the room and said, "She's going to die tonight." I thought, "Oh my goodness...right here in front of everyone he said that!?!?!" He could have just as easily been saying, "I'm going to Walmart after I leave here." It was cold and matter-of-fact. Unbelievable. He DID soften a bit after the initial shocker and told these people that they could go see their loved one but that she did NOT look good due to reopening her up...etc. etc. etc.

We waited.

At 10:23, we called the nurse again. He said he still could not let us back there. I am thinking, "What about OUR loved one?" This family is going back. They are going in twos. We wouldn't look. We just wanted to say goodnight and let him know that we are here. The nurse told us Dad knew we were there and that he was ready for bed.

Now, I am preparing to go back for the 9:00 visit.

And as I sit here and think about all this...I realize....

I STILL don't like hospitals much.