Having made a short explanation as to my sudden “disappearance” due to illness, I’m guessing parts of the sordid story could contain details that might have entertainment value.
If at all possible, one should avoid going to a MN hospital anytime before June or after August, otherwise you are in for a ‘chilling’ experience. It was really only the ER care area that I was put in that was a virtual ‘icebox’, (and that could have been 70° for what I know, but I thought I would die of hyperthermia before I got out of there) once I was in a private room they were good to help me out, by turning the thermostat up to 76° and piling me high with heated blankets! God Bless them, for I felt more like my life was in danger from hyperthermia, than anything else at that point.(That was probably just fever too, but the feeling is the same; frozen.)
It is somewhat interesting to me that two other times that I can remember being in a MN hospital during the month of September and April. Both of those occasions were ‘chilling experiences’ also. I was in once in the month of June and don’t recall that I was cold that time. My guess is the reason for freezing in hospitals has more to do with your state of near nakedness, than anything else, not to mention, my personal thermostat having gone overboard at some point. I was certainly surprised that on this last visit, they actually allowed me to wear my insulated underwear under their famous ‘hospital gown’. That raised their ‘kindness index’ a fair bit in my eyes.
Aside from freezing to death, there are some of the various other unpleasant experiences that await anyone so foolish as to stumble into an ER on Christmas afternoon.
To start with, I was loath to do such a thing. We had some plans for the next day that even the “scrooge” wanted to participate in, like seeing the grandchild. Then, just thinking about the poor people having to work the ER on Christmas Day, I hated to make their life more complicated with reduced staffs and all other factors involved.
But as it worked out, by mid-afternoon, I had to swallow my pride and let my wife drive me the 23 or so miles to the hospital. Who, was almost ready to call an ambulance, because she really thought I was having a heart attack, which I did not believe at all, or at any point, because the pain was not in line with that well know event. My particular pain was too “pointed” to one area of my belly to be a “heart situation”, at least in my untrained opinion.
What was not beyond my “untrained opinion”, was the fact that the pain was growing and showed no signs of letting up, so we ‘traveled’.
Hospitals and medical procedures, in general, are probably the most humbling experiences most of us face. At least if you are “normal”. I don’t consider it ‘normal’ to enjoy being poked, probed, bled half to death, starved and deprived of water. Anyone who enjoys such things need to see a different kind of doctor!
Speaking of water. I have a dear friend that I have sat with in various hospitals over many years and many different times, due to heart disease. I have watched his suffering for a “sip of water” time and again and felt so sorry for him, but now the feeling is different. I had the “pleasure” of finding out what it was like to be on the “waterless list” from about 5 PM Sunday until near noon on Tuesday, after surgery. Of course I was on IV for liquid and pain meds. An IV does not in any way, resemble a nice glass of water! Even if they mostly achieve the same purpose. What misery! All of Sunday night, Monday, Monday night and part of Tuesday, all I got was a little sponge to dip in lukewarm water to wet the inside of my mouth. J I ought to get some mileage out of that little story. But me being me; I have to make a confession. Sometime during the night Sunday, I was able to go to the bathroom on my own. They had left a cup there. You know the rest of that story! (Just one good gulp, die or not!)
In my own self-defense for that one drink of water. They had already said they would not be operating on Monday. I had always been of the understanding that the “waterless period” was generally 12 hours before a surgery and in my ‘water starved mind’, I could see no reason to suffer if they were not going to chop on Monday. I lived. After Monday morning, I stuck to the rules, even with that glass sitting there in plain sight while I was parched.
Since I am tiring on this post, I just want to add my utmost respect, once again, to our American Medical System. I hope it is not destroyed over politics. To all doctors, surgeons, and the most important in the medical army, nurses. You deserve far more than patients can ever pay, but you will always have a friend in Ernie’s World. You have literally saved my life more times than I care to count. May God Bless all of you who work in that Army of Medical Professionals!
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