chapter 12: part 3

continued from chapter 12: part 2


Always keep a pre-packed bag on hand for those unplanned hospital visits. Our bag contained essential toiletries such as a favorite brand of soap, wet or dry shampoos, deodorants and writing materials, a must for inveterate note-takers. Tuck in a couple of pairs of summer pyjamas, which are softer than hospital issue and help prevent chafing. The short-style legs are especially useful under those regulation gowns when you want to take a stroll down the hall. On top of the bag I kept a list of the things that couldn't be pre-packed such as Hal's razor and medication and my last job was to snatch up the newest reading materials including that day's newspaper.

If Hal was due for pain medication the attending doctor was always willing to let him take his own rather than waste time ordering it and waiting for it to arrive. It had to be taken every three hours and he wasn't about to tamper with his temporary success. Of course, on hospital territory, you don't take anything without checking with the doctor first.

Be sure to bring something to fight boredom. Think you can't get bored during a medical emergency? Well you can. Almost invariably, Hal would perk up within an hour of arrival; it was temporary, but he felt fine. Once the crisis was over and he was more comfortable, we'd wait for his file to arrive, then for someone to take him for X-Rays or whatever test was necessary and after that we'd wait for test results. Then, he was usually admitted and we had to wait for a bed. And wait. That's why I say bring something along to alleviate boredom. A deck of cards, your Ipod, books, magazines,whatever. It will also help keep your mind off some of the situations surrounding you.

You're now in the same building with the people who know about your illness and somewhere nearby is your doctor and the resident doctors. This is your chance to really communicate, right? Well, not necessarily.
Although we found the nurses unfailing friendly and helpful, we knew that
our best chance to get any information was from the doctor, who generally made rounds at the same time each day. Hal's doctor came by twice a day and once I understood the system, I made a point of being there for at least one of those visits. The reason this is important is that you can't always rely on the patient to pass on news--sometimes they're medicated out of their minds and they will have forgotten anything they learned, or they prefer to forget what they did hear.

This is especially important when your partner is about to be discharged. Once when we were still new at this, Hal assured them he had lots of morphine at home when he had only a small amount. Believe me, trying to round up morphine at six o'clock in the morning is not something you want to do twice.

On each ward there is a front desk clerk who maintains the day-to-day business, such as passing on messages, delivery of flowers to rooms, taking phone calls from people checking on a patient's condition. If your partner is having a bad day and doesn't want visitors, tell the clerk and stress it's a one-day- only message. The clerk is your valuable link with the outside world.

Sometimes Hal was placed in a four-bed ward and sometimes a semi-private. A lot depended on the space available and the number of staff for that area. Less depended on whether we carried the appropriate medical insurance. Most of Hal's room mates were pleasant people, and some were off the wall, but he wasn't too concerned because he didn't rely on them for company. After all, they were not there by choice and few of them had the energy to make a new acquaintance. He knew I would be with him for most of the day. I still recall his delight, though, when he once had a reasonably healthy roommate who loved playing cribbage as much as he did. I failed him there-I cannot stand the game.

The cleaning staff has a set of rules I never did fathom. I saw the same lady every day and she loved getting a shine to the floors but she didn't care much if there was dirt under the shine.

Don't bring a lot of stuff into the room because it has to leave with you. Hal settled for a couple of snapshots on the bedside table, with his books, notepads and list of phone numbers tucked away in the drawer. I brought him a bud vase with a frequently replaced rose; it provided color and still left room for the water jug and telephone.

If your partner has spent a long time in the same spot in the same room, staring at the same wall, it's inevitable that he'll be depressed. During one of Hal's more lengthy stays, he was placed in a semi-private room with his bed close to the door. It was a tiny, cheerless room; roommates came and went and we simply endured the sameness until I finally realized we were losing all semblance of control. There wasn't much we could do to take charge of our lives, but we could at least move the bed across the room, next to the window. Or so I thought.

A couple of times after a roommate departed, I asked a nurse to move him, but she was obviously busy and made excuses, ultimately leaving him where he was, feeling bored and depressed. Finally, the next time a roommate departed, I politely but forcefully made the same request of an obviously overloaded nurse who decently and kindly took the trouble and extra effort to move him, all the while soothing me with reasons why she believed he should be moved. He then got a slice of sky and a view of pigeons sitting on the roof and more space, because the window ledge handled the overflow of books cards and flowers. To be honest, I don't think he cared much by that time; but it made a difference to me.


continued in chapter 12: part 4