Not Like the Last Trip to the Hospital

Hospital day. I hate hospital days but this isn't supposed to be a long procedure. I'm not calling it a surgery. It's too short to be a surgery. Procedure. Just a couple of toes and clean up the stump.

Falling out of bed happened around 6 a.m. so, in typical me fashion, I'm running a little late. Feed, walk, and water the animals. Quick shower. No food for me. Out the door around 6:43. Okay, there was a little bit of facebook checking in there. Just a quick glance to make sure I didn't miss anything during the 4 hours I slept.

Mom calls just as I'm walking up to the front doors of the hospital. She's at the check in counter on the second floor. I meet her there just in time to hand over her ID and watch her sign some paperwork. I tell her that we didn't have to be here until 7:30. The hospital had called the house the day before to tell her that but I told them that they might not want to tell the rehab center. They aren't very good at getting her places on time and they have an earlier time.She tells me that they barely got there before 7 but one of the nurses at the rehab center bugged the shit out of everyone to make sure they were on time.

We get wheeled back for the appointment pretty quick. Mom gets weighed, temped, written on (I got to keep the skin markers), changed, and finally drugged. I got placed in charge of her belongings, including the rehab centers wheelchair. One thing about this hospital, you better know your name and date of birth because everyone is going to ask for it. I don't know what happens if one doesn't know their name. I'd be inclined to say that I don't know my name just to see what happens.

Eventually, Mom was pushed back to the OR and I headed to the waiting room. This waiting room is fairly nice. A little bright but the chairs are okay and it's large. There is a TV that they had on set on something daytime-y and crappy. I sat in Mom's wheelchair and watched until I realized that no one else was paying attention to the TV and the obnoxious Pink Lady wan't in the room. I changed the channel. Criminal Minds is much better waiting room TV viewing than Celebrity Name Game. Three other people seemed to agree because they wondered over to watch with me.

Speaking of the Pink Lady. She's not really pink, her jacket is (it's usually a her). I don't like them. I find them intrusive and nosy. Why do they need to know why I'm here? I get it, she can be in charge of answering the phone but why does she need to know what the OR told me once the do call? Just lemme alone and let me watch this creepy TV show in peace.

At some point The Leg Thief shows up to tell me that he has successfully stolen two of Mom's toes and cleaned up her stump. Everything went fine and she should be able to leave today. Recovery will call when they are ready to move her to a room.

Hospitals have sucky wifi and cell phone coverage is worse. I tried to do some facebooking and when that failed I played with a new typewriter app on my iPad. It's cool. It sounds like a real typewriter when you type. It even has a "sheet of paper" that moves across the screen as you type. It's cool if you're a typewriter geek. Eventually, Recovery called to tell me that Mom was awake and is on her way to room 449, they'll meet me there.

They lied.

I waited near room 449 for about 10 minutes before I went looking for a nurse who told me that they had told recovery "no" because Mom is scheduled to be discharged today and they can't see giving her a full room to someone that is not staying the night. The hospital has day rooms down on the surgical floor. Back to the waiting room. 

I finally got to Mom's room around 1:20 but I had to suit up before I could go in. Patients that come from rehab or nursing facilities are "isolated" as hospital prodicall. Something about them living in a place that can easily spread infection so the hospital takes extra procations. Whatever. I got a cool blue plastic gown to wear and gloves that make it difficult to type.

Mom was in some pain and not thrilled with the idea of going home.