Patient Observations

I recently decided it was better to change the title of this blog to “Living with Health Problems.”  The reason being that I have been diagnosed with a chronic illness and, though I consider my friend Laurie an inspiration with the way she handles RSD, I do not want to limit this blog to one illness.

In my case, I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease early last year.   Unfortunately, because there is no real way to diagnose PD, I will hold off writing more about my experience.  There seems to be a little debate over whether I really do have PD.  The process of figuring out whether I do, or I don’t, have it will be at least one blog of its own.

I spent this past weekend in the hospital being treated for another illness.  I went into the Emergency Room with a headache that made my head feel it was about to explode.  It turned out my blood pressure was extremely high.  The higher the BP rose, the worse my head ached.  And the worse my head ached the more I suffered nausea and vomiting.

The symptoms gave the impression of migraines, though after two days of testing and loads of medications to bring my BP down to a dischargeable level, pain medications for my headache, and more medications for my stomach, I was finally able to return home two days later.  The diagnoses hypertensive heart disease.  A subject I will also be covering at another time.

What I want to talk about now, as I look back at the experience, is hospital care.  I will not mention the name of the facility where I was treated, because I have both positive and negative things to say about it. 

The first, most positive thing about the entire experience I can say is that the staff at this hospital were caring and professional.  They almost made me want to stay.  ALMOST!  I have to say there is nothing like sleeping in your own bed in a quiet room.  The old adage of not going to the hospital to get rest is true.  It is not a place conducive to rest.

Still, when one is ill there is nothing like being greeted with a smile and genuine concern for your comfort and care.  From student nurses to nurse managers to nurse practitioners everyone was pleasant, kind and professional.

To be greeted by someone who says, “Hi, I’m going to be your best friend tonight,” makes you feel surrounded by warmth.  To hear a cheerful, “Good morning,” from a person wearing an effervescent smile, is contagious.  You can’t help but respond in kind.  

However, not all patients will likely agree.  There are those who have more needs and demands than others.  There are those who are expect it, and those who require it.  These are the patients who are the reason nurses are called, “Angles of Mercy.”

Angels because of the patience they show when faced with crisis and demand.  They brush off apologies from patients who are sorry for being demanding, and they shrug off the unkindness from those patients who are angry for being ill and feel they are not receiving adequate care.

As I said, every one of these professionals made my stay almost pleasant.  Had I not been ill, I might have thought I was spending the weekend in some sort of spa.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say resort, because I couldn’t find a pool if my life depended on it.  I couldn’t even use the shower for all the wires connected to me.  And going for a walk along the facility trail (okay halls) was more depressing than being in my room.  It did, however, produce a feeling of great health when compared to the people in the rooms I passed on my walk.

However, as I said there were some negative reactions to my time in the hospital.  First, a professional can only be as good as the tools and assistance that is available.  It quickly because obvious this facility gave top value to the bottom line.  They proudly display a sign reminding those who enter the facility that they are a FOR profit hospital.

The hospital was visibly short of staff.  Nurses were stretched to give enough time with patients, especially those who were demanding more time.  Never for those who required it. 

I mention the staff first, because it is my belief that the quality of care starts and ends with them.  But when they don’t have what they need to work with, if you look closely you can see the strain.  Though I had to look hard, there were a few on staff that were normally had smiling eyes and cheerful words, who exhibited signs of exhaustion combined with sighs. 

Before I go on, I must say I realize that although the bottom line in any business is important, when dealing with people who may be going through some of the worst times in their lives, perhaps there should be some exceptions.

This hospital is a fairly new building compared to many hospitals in the area, yet, it has not been maintained to the extent it should.  Even the newest addition, the Emergency Room, which was supposed to end long waits and provide more efficient care during the emergency stage of care, showed a lack of maintenance, from pluming issues, to shortness of paper products and cleaning.  A broken water fountain can be overlooked when a security guard offers to get one a drink of water, but after a long stressful wait, if the security guard had been busy, the reaction to the broken fountain might not have been as forgivable.

The title “Waiting Room,” is possibly a warning of what is ahead.  You get what it says, a wait.  However, it is only the first step of the entire stay.  You will wait throughout your entire stay.  Again, a sign they facility is short of staff.

Neither is patient comfort as big a consideration when looking at the bottom line.  It is one thing to use cheap toilet paper for visitors, but for patients; well, having been one, I sure would have appreciated better paper coming from a holder that worked properly.

Beds were uncomfortable and pillows not in the least bit fluffy or firm, except for the lump they turned into once the air squeezed out of them.  They may have looked good, but when one lies upon them and hears the air hissing out of them, you find they are about a third their size when finally flat.  Just a fraction thicker than a blanket

Last, I will also note the need for a little more cleanliness.  From the cheese curl under the bed in the emergency room, to the fuzz balls in the room, there was a feeling that the over-worked cleaning staff had to work more quickly than efficiently.  One might think they were being paid rate work, rather than hourly.

Now before I close, lest this article seem unbalance between positive and negative, I must say I am home and I am alive.  If I were to be honest about experience, I would rather have the care of any of the people who looked after me, not matter what their role -- it would just be in a facility that seemed to care just a little bit more about that bottom line mentioned previously.

My only question is, in this period in time, is there such a place?