During several stays over the past fifty years at an eastside hospital near our home, Bill and I have received excellent care from competent, kind physicians, nurses and aides, and the menu has been upgraded.
However, it’s impossible to get much sleep in health care facilities. They need to check one’s vitals every few hours, draw blood, medicate and clean. They even ran the vacuum cleaner in the hallway outside Bill’s door at the rehab center at 6:00 a.m. Near his room, a door alarm beeped whenever anyone entered or left. Periodically it jammed. “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee . . . “ The sound was maddening.
Bill’s sister-in-law in California eventually refused ever to be hospitalized again because she was so upset by the noise. Bill’s niece, her daughter, said, “Nurses, doctors and aides have no consideration for people. They stand outside patients’ doors, carry on loud conversations, crack jokes and laugh at the top of their lungs.”
Amen to that! They’re so loud that I suspect that they all need hearing aids. Several years ago, I was in a recovery room with other patients. All night long the personnel at the station in the center of the room talked and laughed so loudly that if I had been able to, I would have shrieked, “Will you please shut up so people can sleep!”
One time an aide awakened me at 3:00 a.m. when she rolled a clattering scale into my room. “What are you doing here at this time of night?” I inquired testily. “Please get out of bed. I have to weigh you.” These days they have fancy beds that weigh you. Has anyone ever slept in a hospital bed that was comfortable? No matter how the bed is positioned, you slide down until your feet are against the footboard.
Bill’s bypass surgery was performed at the Community Heart Hospital on the northeast side of Indianapolis. The Heart Hospital is surely the nirvana of hospitals! It was incredibly quiet. When I mentioned this to a staff member who asked for my impressions of the hospital she said, “We’ve had a huge initiative to make this hospital quiet. We frown on clattery high heels, and people wear covers over their shoes if necessary.”
Just before Bill was wheeled away, a nurse in surgical garb gave us a telephone and said, “I’ll be there throughout the surgery and shall call you periodically.” Sure enough, she called and said, “The surgeon has entered the chest . . . Mr. Clarke is now on the heart/lung machine, and Dr. Story is performing the bypasses. Everything is going very well . . . He’s off the heart/lung machine, and the surgeon will be closing soon.” How comforting it was to know what was happening rather than worrying during those long three hours.
“Americans are digging their graves with their forks.” My mother said this about forty years ago. She should see us now!
Bill’s cardiologist and his nurse told me, “He’s in far better condition than many of our patients.” The surgeon said, “Look at you at your age and doing extremely well only two days after this very serious surgery!” The consensus was that this surgery is much harder on fat people.
We pay no attention to physicians who warn us about the totally unnecessary diabetes, heart, kidney, and walking problems that we bring on ourselves by overindulgence in sweets, salt and fat and refusal to exercise. I saw a man who must have weighed well over 300 pounds waddle breathlessly back from the dessert bar at an all-you-can-eat buffet, carrying three desserts.
I’m not fat, but I need to control my weight because of my arteries. I know how hard it is to lose weight and to resist temptation. On my tombstone should be inscribed, “Lady of the Perpetual Diet!” My problem is that food is a sensuous experience and comforts me. wclarke@comcast.net