I spent the better part of my day in a hospital. This was a planned visit – my wife just went through the first of two total knee replacements. Now before getting into what I learned by sitting in this house of medicine, I will say that my wife is doing very well. The surgery went better than expected, and, prior to leaving this evening, she was already out of bed and walking the halls. She had a great surgeon, and she is a super woman when it comes to overcoming barriers. I know it will not be an easy recovery, but I will be with her every step of the way as she bounces back.
With that being said, today is more about what I observed during my 12+ hours moving from place to place. The hospital in our city is located in a spot that causes me to pass by it whenever I am getting on to the local freeway. I often look at the building from the outside. Memories of spending 5 days inside after the birth of our daughter often come back to me. I might be strange that a hospital only brings back good memories. I do have the memory of saying good-bye to a friend within the same building, but knowing my friend as well as I do, he would be upset if I allowed that to outdo the joy our daughter’s birth. Yet, for so many, a hospital has more sad connections than happy. Just the same, it is interesting to watch the internal workings of this tall building.
First, I want to pay homage to those who work in the hospital. As part of the education field, I am often singing the praises of teachers and school employees and how hard they work without acknowledgment. Those who work in a hospital are right there with the teachers in their unsung work – if not even at a higher step. I watched nurses this morning and they just made me sit there in awe of their abilities, work ethic, compassion, and ability to put their own feelings deep down. Yes. Teachers deal with a lot – cuts, bloody noses, throw-up, and other disgusting bodily outputs. Nurses, however, deal with all of that and more.
We walked in the hospital at 5:30 a.m. to prepare for my wife’s surgery. These nurses had smiles on their faces as they welcomed extremely nervous people walking in to await a scalpel. These ladies, I know that there are male nurses, but we only had female nurses, spoke with us in such a way that fears started to calm. For the next two hours, I heard and watched what they had to do to prep people for surgery. Unfortunately, with only curtains separating us from the other patients, you get to hear everything – I do mean everything.
These ladies walked the hallway doing their jobs and working as hard as possible to put the patients at ease. This cannot be an easy task considering the lack of modesty that is involved with this job. Yet, I heard them talking with the patients about any and every subject in order to keep their mind off of what was being done and what would soon be happening. I would hear patients who, only a few minutes earlier with their families, were worried about surgery start to talk about their favorite teams, TV shows, or other subjects. The nurses on the floor after the surgery were no different. Every nurse puts aside what is happening in their personal life for the 12 hours that they are in that building. They are amazing.
Just like with a school, the hospital runs thanks to those who are not doctors or nurses. In my time, waiting, I watched transport people, aides, physical therapists, cafeteria workers, and others going about their jobs. Each and ever one of them made it a point to greet me when I walked past. They had no idea who I was, but they could tell I was, most likely, a family member. You could tell that these people knew that a kind word might be needed. I was fortunate in knowing that my wife was in for a surgery from which she would be walking away. There were others that I could see by the look on their face, that didn’t have it so good. I saw pain. I could also tell that every person wearing a name badge also knew this and offered themselves as support.
Finally, for people, I have to shout out to the physical therapists. I am not sure how these people do their chosen job. They walk into a room, or have the patients come to them, they have a smile while knowing that they will be causing pain. They do not do it for fun (at least not that I can tell), they do it to make another person’s life better. They must endure the fact that they are causing suffering now so that there is less later. Yet, these people do it in hopes that what they are doing will make a difference. I cannot imagine doing a job where you could be cursed out day after day and would most likely not be remembered fondly. But there they are – doing it with care, compassion, and love for the patient.
Normally when one pictures a hospital, they see doctors in white coats. Yes. The doctors deserve praise for what they are able to do for people. However, without all of the others that work in that same building, the work of the doctors could never happen.
On a side note, hospitals are not a good place for people like me. I have often written about being an introvert. I also am, I believe, a person with self-diagnosed ADD. Focus isn’t always my strong point (except when writing). Finally, I am a writer – this means so many thoughts going flying through my head. These items are not a good combination for a person stuck by himself in a waiting room for hours on his own. Every single scenario of what could go wrong in my wife’s very common procedure ran through my head. I pictured the doctor coming into the room to tell me one bad thing after another. Every call over the intercom for a doctor stopped my current thought pattern and took me into a whole different direction. If not for the kindness of the staff asking me how I was doing the 4 or 5 times I went for coffee, I may have driven myself mad.
So there you have my thoughts of a day in the hospital. If you know a nurse or someone else who works in the medical field – thank them. Thank them for doing a job that so few could do.
Thanks for meandering with me tonight.