My Dad, Milt, had a fluke thing happen to him on May 17th. What we initially thought was a stroke turned out to be his thoracic spine (T 7/8 to be exact) literally cutting into his spinal cord. A major surgery was undertaken about a week later. The surgery went well, but the MRSA resistant staff infection attacked his right lung - sending him back to ICU at the hospital after only being in the rehab unit for 14 hours.
After fighting for his life for a few weeks in ICU he returned to rehab - where he's been for the past 5 weeks. Tonight, we're back in the emergency room - pain in the lung, and a little difficulty breathing. So here we are. We've taken over "our" corner in the ER waiting area, again, tho we are a bit short on our usual treats, we have our e-readers, cell phones and computers. They've become a staple when the call comes in to head to the hospital for something.
Jeff is sketching stuff for woods, Gary and Joel are listening to mash-ups and I'm blogging (conveniently out of the picture), whilst Dad is being wheeled about to CT and xray and being all sorts of poked and prodded - yet again. At least this time around he's coherent and joking a bit.
The IMC is a nice hospital, and they have a pretty decent cafeteria - the onion rings are awesome!
I've seen a few things over the past three months being in and out of here with Dad.
First, there are lots of people and they all deal with tragedy and pain in different ways. Some are quiet and you hardly know they're there. Others are vocal, impatient, and downright mean - which is hard for me to listen to - I know its difficult, but I've never seen any of this hospital staff not doing their best to make things better for those in the ER area. Still others whimper and moan, trying to be brave but they're just not able to pull it off. Some joke and laugh, others are social with those sitting around them.
Next, people are fragile. There are lots of things that people come to the ER for. I watched a very drunk woman come in looking for her son that had overdosed, also a man who had been cleaning his hand gun with a bullet through his hand - the nurses called the police in on that one. In one room was a man who had been playing a neighborhood type game of basketball and had been purposely tripped and kicked about the head because he was 6'8" and his team was winning. It find it amazing that we live through these things. Whether it be a little germ that takes over your body and turns it against you, or being thrown head first through a car windshield.
Another thing is that the ER makes us sit back and wait, and listen. Patience is necessary, like it or not. I have spent more time in the last three months sitting, observing and listening than I have in a long time. I've learned that sitting close to the door of the room and listening to what happens in the hallway often gets you information you wouldn't know otherwise, and that asking to see the xray, ct scan and blood numbers every day is very telling - even as a non-medically trained person.
Last, is that asking questions makes some professionals act a bit put out; but if I've waited hours for them to come tell me something then I'm going to find out, as completely and thoroughly as I can what it is they have figured out - to the last detail - and then I'll have them tell me again so I understand completely. I think that if they're getting paid like they are and they make me wait for hours on end, I'm going to drain them of every last bit of information they can show and tell me.
So, its 10:55pm, we're going on 5 hours and counting now - the blood pressure cuff is filling again, Dad has started telling jokes and is trying to get comfortable, the baby in the next room has stopped whimpering for a minute.....here we are...again.
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