Hospital Hang-ups (Note: post contains humor, grossness, and whining)
So I ended up spending the night in the hospital again. This time it was because my surgery didn't go as planned...or something like that. They couldn't get the bone aspiration the way they wanted to during surgery, and then the surgerys for the day were running late anyway, but the cherry on the top of it all was that the person who dressed my wound forgot to COVER THE WOUND, so this thing was just out, open and exposed to the germy, bacterially ridden elements until the night shift nurse noticed it. Also they decided that since the portacath was in, well what the hell, why not just give Heather the unknowing her first dose of chemo tonight! Doesn't that sound like fun, children? Of course it does.
In the last twelve hours I've experianced surgery, a semi quality salmon dinner and decent turkey sandwich, being again drugged and having a needle put in my butt, redressing the open wound, two panic attacks, two sticks for the inital IV, Hot flashes from the chemotherapy, and my very personal favorite of all, extreemly pink pee. There really is nothing like pink urine. It is apperantly a side effect of the chemotherapy. At least it's a pretty side effect amoung all the not so pretty ones. And, it made me think, when Rainbow Brite goes to the bathroom, supposing she does because she is a cartoon character and my information is sketchy at best on the inner workings of animated bodies, but when she goes pee, is this what she sees? Even in the toilet, is it a magical world of special colors?
I'm in the Oncology unit for the first time, so I'm having to again deal with the scary reality of the situation that I'm in. However, since it's not the first timeI've had to face that reality, I'm doing a little bit better. The odd thing about the oncology unit, and this holds true in just about every hospital I've been in, is that the closer you are to death, the nicer the rooms are decorated. This one has chair rails, a little hand drawn calander to mark off the days on, nice shelving for flowers or personal items, and pretty blue striped wall paper. UGLY room curtians, but other than that it's much more welcoming than the room I was in after my biopsy. I wonder if they make the room omore welcoming because being in here with a cancer paitent is such a scary thing to do. That or perhaps they just want people to be in a pretty room when they go so they can enjoy their last few days a bit more. No matter how you slice it, that's a pretty macabre statement. And yet, I will stand by my logic.
The woman who I am sharing a room with this time is MUCH less pleasent than the lady I had last time. This one is a bitcher. "I need a cookie, I need more pillows, the guy across the hall is coughing too loudly and someone should make him be quiet, I need to go to the bathroom and the flatulant man across the way just went and now our bathroom smells like old flatulant man smell" and so on and so forth. I'm like, Lady, this is a hospital, not the Sheridan. If you want a non-flatulate smelling bathroom, pay for a private room and then don't allow farting in the bathroom. Otherwise, deal with the olfactroy offense. And No, you cannot have a cookie. Eat your damn graham crackers and be happy that they gave you that. Most hospitals give you Jello, Jello and more effing Jello. And ALWAYS in LIME. I swear it's a hold over from coldwar bomb shelters in the 1950's Graham crackers... it's like hospital heaven food. Stop WHINING!
There are some other subtle things here too. For instance:
THE CURTAINS:
Around my little half of the room with the bitchy cookie lady is a happy little curtian with a rainbow gradiant on it and some pattern of "X" sewn in. The rainbow gradient does nothing to convince my metaphoricly sensitive mind that at the end of this there will be some kind of metaphoric "pot of gold". And I'm the kind of person who would buy that sort of crap on a normal basis, but these are some butt ugly curtians, so any pot of gold at the end of them probably smells like old man flatulance.
FOOTIE SOCKS:
I continue to wage my small war on the world of footie socks. Sure, footie socks have their place. That place, however, is not on my feet. The next Paitent Tech who attempts to put them on me is going to get my non sunshiny attitude that I save to for the bitches who don't listen when I say "Hey, taking blood from me can be pretty hard... my veins roll" and then they stab me like nine times in a vein (haha) attempt to show me how cool they are at hitting the mark every time. Those people... I think bad thoughts about them.
Back to the issue of footie socks, though. I dislike the footie socks they keep attempting to make me wear on my feet. They are grey in a shade that looks like a mule who will be shot soon cause all it does is lie there, and they are scratchy inside and out. Plus, I have feet that rival sasquatch, should he exsist, so they really don't fit just quite right. It also bears mentioning that they are grey and do nothign to match this blue and pink fat person style hospital gown they have me wearing. Also, in a related note, when they brought me a waterbottle to drink from, it came dressed in a blue footie sock, which, ironically, WOULD match the hospital gown. I thought it beared reporting.
THE BLUE AND PINK FAT PERSON STYLE HOSPITAL GOWN:
Ew. I start with just ew. First off, this thing is ugly. And I mean like Kate Moss ugly. It also wraps around me twice, which begs the question, Why, if it wraps around me twice, didn't they just give me the normal sized gown? I mean, seriously... it's nice not to have my ass hanging out there for the world to see when I go take a walk, but I'd really like it if it didn't slide down and show off my tits. Boobs and Cleavage are NOT the first thing someone should think about when they see you in a hospital gown. This is just not needed. And when I go to do my buisness in the smelly bathroom, which by the way also has a leaky toliet (I think), the gown falls off so that when I stand up from making pink pee, I have to redress myself over the heprin lock IV that's still in my arm, even though I think it should have been removed long ago.
THE NURSE CALL BUTTON:
When you summon a nurse or paitent tech to your side in this particular unit, not only do you know that you pushed the button, but so does everyone else. You hear the tone beep in EVERY ROOM. And then when someone does finally show up, they forget to turn off the call button half the time. Also, when they respond, often I just send the PT back because my question is for the damn nurse, and no, I don't think the paitent tech knows if there is supposed to be a bump in a particular place or if it is okay that I'm sitting here having hot flashes. 9 out of 10 times today, they haven't so I'm just relying on imperical self gathered evidence.
OTHER NOISES:
Yes, hospitals have noises, but the ones I am refering here to are the conversations of the nurses and PTs and doctors in the hallway. For instance, I really could have gone my whole life with out the mental image conjured by the conversation of how one lady down the hall PULLED OUT HER FOLEY CATHATER. Also, the one that popped in my head about the man two doors down who pulled out his portacath. First of all, having one now, I have to just say OUCH, and second of all, EWWWW! These people either have an INCREDIBLE toloerance for pain or no common sense, or they just want to die and want the nurses to leave them alone. Maybe it's a little of all three. I don't know.
IODINE:
I was talking to Alan, who has just been a great little trooper through all this and should be commened, and my gown was slipping, which he pointed out to me and so I looked down to fix it. My boobs are yellow. Now for those of you who have never experianced looking down to see yellow tits, this is a semi-jarring experiance. In fact my first thought was, "Shit. Great. Just what I need now... Yellow Tits." My second thought was, "I sure as hell hope this isn't Jondace," or however you spell that. Then Alan mentioned the iodine stains or something and I realized what the hell it was. So I'm kind of thankful not to have permanantly yellow boobies, but on the other hand, I'm disgrunteled that I was tricked by iodine.
ODD HOSPITAL NAMES FOR STUFF:
The thing they collect my pink pee in the toilet in is called a Hat. I would never wear this hat. It has had pink pee in it. It also doesn't make sense to me, besides the fact that I would never pee in a hat unless a frat boy was going to wear it shortly there after, because the hat sits in the bowl with the protrudance side down. If it were a hat for a toilet, like a nice bowler or stetson, wouldn't you think that it would hang on the back of the toilet? But then again, who's going to pee in a nice bowler or stetson or fedora that doesn't belong to a frat boy or maybe a lawyer?
In general, these are just the normal hospital observations. Most of them are specific to this particular hospital, but that's only because it's where I'm at right now. Overall though, I really can't complain. I have a GREAT set of doctors helping me through all this, and the staff of nurses and PTs here are really really good. I'm lucky to be getting the kind of treatment that I am here, and to know that the outcome will be a positive one. I'd reccomend this hospital to anyone actually. If you're going to be tormented by the normal hospital things in the course of your treatment, at least have the best care possible behind them.
In the last twelve hours I've experianced surgery, a semi quality salmon dinner and decent turkey sandwich, being again drugged and having a needle put in my butt, redressing the open wound, two panic attacks, two sticks for the inital IV, Hot flashes from the chemotherapy, and my very personal favorite of all, extreemly pink pee. There really is nothing like pink urine. It is apperantly a side effect of the chemotherapy. At least it's a pretty side effect amoung all the not so pretty ones. And, it made me think, when Rainbow Brite goes to the bathroom, supposing she does because she is a cartoon character and my information is sketchy at best on the inner workings of animated bodies, but when she goes pee, is this what she sees? Even in the toilet, is it a magical world of special colors?
I'm in the Oncology unit for the first time, so I'm having to again deal with the scary reality of the situation that I'm in. However, since it's not the first timeI've had to face that reality, I'm doing a little bit better. The odd thing about the oncology unit, and this holds true in just about every hospital I've been in, is that the closer you are to death, the nicer the rooms are decorated. This one has chair rails, a little hand drawn calander to mark off the days on, nice shelving for flowers or personal items, and pretty blue striped wall paper. UGLY room curtians, but other than that it's much more welcoming than the room I was in after my biopsy. I wonder if they make the room omore welcoming because being in here with a cancer paitent is such a scary thing to do. That or perhaps they just want people to be in a pretty room when they go so they can enjoy their last few days a bit more. No matter how you slice it, that's a pretty macabre statement. And yet, I will stand by my logic.
The woman who I am sharing a room with this time is MUCH less pleasent than the lady I had last time. This one is a bitcher. "I need a cookie, I need more pillows, the guy across the hall is coughing too loudly and someone should make him be quiet, I need to go to the bathroom and the flatulant man across the way just went and now our bathroom smells like old flatulant man smell" and so on and so forth. I'm like, Lady, this is a hospital, not the Sheridan. If you want a non-flatulate smelling bathroom, pay for a private room and then don't allow farting in the bathroom. Otherwise, deal with the olfactroy offense. And No, you cannot have a cookie. Eat your damn graham crackers and be happy that they gave you that. Most hospitals give you Jello, Jello and more effing Jello. And ALWAYS in LIME. I swear it's a hold over from coldwar bomb shelters in the 1950's Graham crackers... it's like hospital heaven food. Stop WHINING!
There are some other subtle things here too. For instance:
THE CURTAINS:
Around my little half of the room with the bitchy cookie lady is a happy little curtian with a rainbow gradiant on it and some pattern of "X" sewn in. The rainbow gradient does nothing to convince my metaphoricly sensitive mind that at the end of this there will be some kind of metaphoric "pot of gold". And I'm the kind of person who would buy that sort of crap on a normal basis, but these are some butt ugly curtians, so any pot of gold at the end of them probably smells like old man flatulance.
FOOTIE SOCKS:
I continue to wage my small war on the world of footie socks. Sure, footie socks have their place. That place, however, is not on my feet. The next Paitent Tech who attempts to put them on me is going to get my non sunshiny attitude that I save to for the bitches who don't listen when I say "Hey, taking blood from me can be pretty hard... my veins roll" and then they stab me like nine times in a vein (haha) attempt to show me how cool they are at hitting the mark every time. Those people... I think bad thoughts about them.
Back to the issue of footie socks, though. I dislike the footie socks they keep attempting to make me wear on my feet. They are grey in a shade that looks like a mule who will be shot soon cause all it does is lie there, and they are scratchy inside and out. Plus, I have feet that rival sasquatch, should he exsist, so they really don't fit just quite right. It also bears mentioning that they are grey and do nothign to match this blue and pink fat person style hospital gown they have me wearing. Also, in a related note, when they brought me a waterbottle to drink from, it came dressed in a blue footie sock, which, ironically, WOULD match the hospital gown. I thought it beared reporting.
THE BLUE AND PINK FAT PERSON STYLE HOSPITAL GOWN:
Ew. I start with just ew. First off, this thing is ugly. And I mean like Kate Moss ugly. It also wraps around me twice, which begs the question, Why, if it wraps around me twice, didn't they just give me the normal sized gown? I mean, seriously... it's nice not to have my ass hanging out there for the world to see when I go take a walk, but I'd really like it if it didn't slide down and show off my tits. Boobs and Cleavage are NOT the first thing someone should think about when they see you in a hospital gown. This is just not needed. And when I go to do my buisness in the smelly bathroom, which by the way also has a leaky toliet (I think), the gown falls off so that when I stand up from making pink pee, I have to redress myself over the heprin lock IV that's still in my arm, even though I think it should have been removed long ago.
THE NURSE CALL BUTTON:
When you summon a nurse or paitent tech to your side in this particular unit, not only do you know that you pushed the button, but so does everyone else. You hear the tone beep in EVERY ROOM. And then when someone does finally show up, they forget to turn off the call button half the time. Also, when they respond, often I just send the PT back because my question is for the damn nurse, and no, I don't think the paitent tech knows if there is supposed to be a bump in a particular place or if it is okay that I'm sitting here having hot flashes. 9 out of 10 times today, they haven't so I'm just relying on imperical self gathered evidence.
OTHER NOISES:
Yes, hospitals have noises, but the ones I am refering here to are the conversations of the nurses and PTs and doctors in the hallway. For instance, I really could have gone my whole life with out the mental image conjured by the conversation of how one lady down the hall PULLED OUT HER FOLEY CATHATER. Also, the one that popped in my head about the man two doors down who pulled out his portacath. First of all, having one now, I have to just say OUCH, and second of all, EWWWW! These people either have an INCREDIBLE toloerance for pain or no common sense, or they just want to die and want the nurses to leave them alone. Maybe it's a little of all three. I don't know.
IODINE:
I was talking to Alan, who has just been a great little trooper through all this and should be commened, and my gown was slipping, which he pointed out to me and so I looked down to fix it. My boobs are yellow. Now for those of you who have never experianced looking down to see yellow tits, this is a semi-jarring experiance. In fact my first thought was, "Shit. Great. Just what I need now... Yellow Tits." My second thought was, "I sure as hell hope this isn't Jondace," or however you spell that. Then Alan mentioned the iodine stains or something and I realized what the hell it was. So I'm kind of thankful not to have permanantly yellow boobies, but on the other hand, I'm disgrunteled that I was tricked by iodine.
ODD HOSPITAL NAMES FOR STUFF:
The thing they collect my pink pee in the toilet in is called a Hat. I would never wear this hat. It has had pink pee in it. It also doesn't make sense to me, besides the fact that I would never pee in a hat unless a frat boy was going to wear it shortly there after, because the hat sits in the bowl with the protrudance side down. If it were a hat for a toilet, like a nice bowler or stetson, wouldn't you think that it would hang on the back of the toilet? But then again, who's going to pee in a nice bowler or stetson or fedora that doesn't belong to a frat boy or maybe a lawyer?
In general, these are just the normal hospital observations. Most of them are specific to this particular hospital, but that's only because it's where I'm at right now. Overall though, I really can't complain. I have a GREAT set of doctors helping me through all this, and the staff of nurses and PTs here are really really good. I'm lucky to be getting the kind of treatment that I am here, and to know that the outcome will be a positive one. I'd reccomend this hospital to anyone actually. If you're going to be tormented by the normal hospital things in the course of your treatment, at least have the best care possible behind them.