Since I was 1,206 miles from home, I didn’t expect to have many visitors during my hospital stay. So, it was a great surprise when someone would stop by to say, “Hello.” So far, only Curt and one of the hospital chaplains had visited me. No doubt I had experienced lots of comings and goings by medical personnel; it seemed like no one in a uniform could pass my room without coming in to take my blood, give me a pill or a meal, connect some wires and read some numbers or look at some lines.
Sacred Heart (HSCM) is a huge hospital founded in 1898. HSCM, with its 400 doctors and 3,800 employees, is a recognized leader in traumatology, orthopedics, cardiology, emergency, pharmacy, and other services. The hospital cares for more than 20,000 inpatients and 200,000 outpatients annually. And, on Thursday the Emergency Department was operating at 250% capacity due to a huge influx of patients with flu-like symptoms. I was thankful that I had received a flu shot a couple of months earlier. I would experience some of the impact of the crowded facility in the next couple of days.
Thankfully, at 10:00 PM on Friday evening [Since the angioplasty had ended around 4:45 PM, I had to lay flat for five hours to let my femoral artery rest. And the rest of my body needed a break, too.] I received a hot meal of meatloaf, carrots and peas, and tea and fruit. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast due to my angioplasty that afternoon. The meal was delightful. The new orderly for the night had just come on for the weekend shift and his name was “Jack”. I’m not sure of his country of origin, but was guessing he was Eastern European or the Middle Eastern. Jack spoke American-style English and seemed to have many friends around the hospital. He was a master at “transforming” my bed into a huge chair making it so much easier to eat.
Given the fluid in my lungs and taking the diuretic Lasix water pill, my urine was being measured and I was not yet able to go to the WC. So, I was successfully using a container while in bed. After 48-hours of successful use, I missed the container and wet the bed. Upon seeing Jack, I motioned for some help. Did I mention that Jack had a loud voice? Well, soon there was a couple more staff in my room to help remove the sheets and remake my bed with me in it. Fun times.
As Jack was finishing making my bed, the other staff had left, a couple of his friends passed by my door and caught his eye. I was rolled over on my left side and he’s now in the hall having a good ole reunion and my gown is not fully covering me. “Hello!” I’m thinking. Jack came back shortly as if nothing had happened and I was lying on my back again on clean crisp sheets. It’s all a part of life in the hospital.
Later, I apologized to my weekend night nurse, Martine, for being rude when they were transferring me from the post-op hall to my room. I had felt that I was not the most respectful. I felt I had been demanding and complaining. She said, “You? You were not rude. I began my career in nursing in the Emergency Room. I know what rude is and you were not rude. Nothing to worry about.”
Martine had dark red hair and 7 pierced earrings on her left ear. Her English was not bad and I felt she cared for her patients and was pretty quick to listen or observe and size up a situation and decide on the best course of action. It was probably her ER experiences that increased her response time to the needs of others.
On Thursday, Lind had secured a large radio for my room and set it to an English language pop station for me to enjoy. I had shut it off at night, but it was good to have some music in the background. There was no TV in the room and just one comfortable chair.
My CCU room was modern and large. It also had individual HVAC temperature controls. I asked Martine to lower the temperature a few degrees so that I could sleep. I slept extremely well. Someone added a light blanket during the night to cover me and I had what would be my last good night of sleep for a couple of weeks.
