Leaves on this Family Tree

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Easter Sunday in the Hospital

Sunday morning started out GREAT! . . well, let's go back to the "middle of the night" visits.

My PCA (no longer and aide, or an LPN . . new term here is a Personal Care Aide? Wonder when personal care didn't include any personal care, just taking "vitals" and blood?) came in sometime in the middle of Saturday night/Sunday morning to get some blood.

Now, here I am asleep, with a "thingy" in my hand that they put in in the ER and drew the blood for the lab out of there . . but not now. Miss "I have Floating / Deep / I am a Hard Stick" patient gets to lie in bed and have my right arm right arm poked and prodded . . . thank heavens she wasn't using the needle . . just her fingers to see if she could find anything to get blood out of . . . two sticks, no luck, just pain.

She leaves and the male night nurse came in . . cute as a button and with the "who can't get her veins to pop?" attitude . . . and he sits there for about 10 minutes trying to find something he can feel too. While he's doing this, I was going back to sleep. Once he finally found "one" the butterfly needle went in slicker than snot. (Haven't thought of THAT expression in years.)

Now, it's wake up time and breakfast. It was scrumptious . . . Now, I must tell you, I come from a town where people go to the hospital cafeteria to eat . . one of the best restaurants in town. Before we left, the person running the cafeteria had come from running a restaurant in California . . . a Belgian Waffle with strawberry syrup, some maple syrup on the side, scrambled Egg Beaters (or a substitute), oatmeal, milk and juice. I wondered who had read my mind on what I wanted to eat . . . belonged to the clean plate club on this one.

A Physicians Assistant for my cardiac dr. shows up in the morning . . . doesn't tell me too much, but, boy was she perky! Didn't find out a whole lot from her except I was in until Monday morning Stress Test. I'm okay with this . . still thinking I was looking at heart problems . . . but still rather pissed I was going to have to pay for another day lying in a hospital bed doing absolutely nothing but hearing the cash register of the hospital going "Ca-Ching" as the cost of another day in a room went into their coffers.

Guy from the cafeteria comes in and I get to choose my lunch and dinner . . . my choice for lunch was baked chicken, garden salad and carrot cake. Supper choice, baked chicken again . . . (can't remember the other choice, but when the same food is chosen twice in one day, you know the other option wasn't high on my list), garden salad (this time with ranch instead of Italian dressing .. . . wooooo-hooo, a taste treat  . . . and strawberry short cake.

Lunch was pretty good . . . asparagus was the veggie and the carrot cake miraculously turned into a piece of pound cake . . hum, very interesting.

Supper was the same chicken, creamed spinach (actually tasted pretty good . . . haven't had cooked spinach for YEARS, the strawberry shortcake was the cake from lunch, the strawberry stuff that was on the waffle for breakfast on top of it.

Didn't get to sign up for Monday breakfast . . nothing by mouth until after all of the tests on Monday.

Some dr comes in, checks my heart, front and back, says I am getting the stress test, an Ultra sound and a sonogram . . . sure would have been nice if she would have introduced herself and explained why I was getting the other two tests. I mean, I'm going to get a big bill from her for all of the 5 minutes I saw her Sunday and Monday.

Nurse comes in on her new shift. I checked with her to see what was going on Monday morning. She was in a lot better spirits than Saturday night . . . maybe things will get better? Ultra sound was to get a picture of heart chambers. Sonogram was to get pictures of the liver to see what was going on there . . dr had written on my chart that I had a "sluggish liver." Doesn't THAT sound appetizing?

Nothing more to do but lie in bed, or sit on the chair, and wait. (Maybe they are getting me ready for my dad's army . . hurry up and wait!)


  1. The waiting is sometimes the hardest. The ER and surgical room for my kinked whasit came the other day. $39,000! Haven't heard from the doctor or anesthesiologist yet but I'm sure between the two they will round it out of an even $50,000. Just so hard to believe, isn't it?

    Enjoy the creamed spinich. That just sounds too nasty. "Gag me with a spoon" do you remember that expression?

  2. Sometimes it's hard to believe how inept & unprofessional hospitals & hospital employees can be. Get a copy of any doctors notes & ER notes if you want to have a real shocker. I swear, I've seen some of mine & I wonder who in the world they were writing about because it certainly wasn't me! I hope there's a happy ending to this story.

  3. I hate it when they come in and not explain what they are doing, I always stop them and make them tell me as much as I can. Glad the food is good now.
    Only difference here is we don't get to see the bill.


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