Thursday, March 19, 2009

What I Hate Most About Hospitals













Dear Sally:

I’ve spent the last seven weeks inside of a hospital and a nursing home while visiting my sick father. And that is why you are going to read about those places and my experiences there until I get it out of my system. Can you believe your luck?

Speaking of hospitals, I was trying to decide what I hated most about them one day when Dad called from his room to ask me to get a bedpan. That’s right – he had to call me. He said he had been trying to get a bedpan for two hours but no one came. When I arrived in his room 10 minutes later, Dad was sitting on a loaded bedpan full to the brim. Worse, someone came by and delivered his meal even though the room was as fragrant as a Port-A-Potty in August.

My area of expertise doesn’t cover bedpans, but when Dad asked me to get that thing out from under him I did. Quickly. Then I carried it the nurse’s station myself, taking extra large, indignant steps down the hall. “Can someone please do something with THIS?” I said to a lady in scrubs. She asked me where it came from and why I had it. “It was under my father while he was trying to eat his dinner!” As I recall, I was yelling. In retrospect, I doubt I was yelling loud enough. That crazy lady carried it back down the hall to my Dad’s room, rinsed it out in his bathroom sink and left. The night before, no one rinsed anything and they just left the used bedpan on the damn floor. I guess I should be grateful?


How disgusting was that episode? Beyond my measuring! I can’t believe they expected an elderly man in stage 4 of lung disease, with his heart ticking at 25% capacity, to eat his lousy Jell-O with a mound of loose stool under his deflated, emaciated ass. That’s the definition of heartless, man. I really, really hated that about Eastern Niagara Hospital (in Newfane).





I still see the bedpan in my mind. In fact, it was worse than the time there was no barf pan in Dad’s room, so I let him puke in my hands. I used to think his phlegm was bad, but not anymore!

I’m so glad I got my Dad out of that hospital.


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11 comments:

Minnie-sota said...

Mojo, you are back and you may rage about the hospital as long as you like.

I'm thinking of you and your Dad. Hgs.

And I'm wondering if you can get Superheroes, Scoobie Doo or Looney Tunes on disposable briefs. Because when my time comes for the briefs, I want the Tazmania Devil or Bugs Bunny on mine. I picture myself saying, "Eh, What's Up Doc? Get rid of this bed pan, pronto."

Love you.

Mojopo said...

Love you back.

I like your idea, Mins. With so many Boomers moving towards retirement age, there is money to be made on an idea such as yours.

Let's market it! My Pop would like anything with Pistol Pete on them, or Snuffie Smith.

Speedy said...

Good morning Ms. Mojo! You're allow to vent away about the hospital. It's my theory that the longer people stay in a hospital the less visable they become to the staff. It sounds like everyone went through hell and back....

Mojopo said...

So true, Speedy. ICU was good each time Dad was there, but the regular rooms are mostly invisible to the staff after the second or third week.

Speedy said...

I'm glad you're back in any case Mojo. We missed you terribly!! :-)

Mojopo said...

Miss you, too. But mostly, I missed my pillow and a little thing I like to call "cable television".

Yvette said...

That's a terrible story, and I hope the IT guy at the hospital catches the link so they can all know it's being posted. There is no reason that should ever happen.
That being said, If someone ever puts disposable briefs with cartoons on me, Imma look up Minnie and smack her.

Anonymous said...

Really good to see you back Mojo, enjoy your home!

Catarina

an.tu said...

I missed you, Mojo. I missed you so bad. I missed you so, so, SO bad.

Minnie-sota said...

Why Vettey, I thought you would love my cartoon disposal briefs ideas! ;-)

James said...

Oh, Mojo.

This is a good thing to be angry about. I'm all ears.