Friday, January 15, 2016
Today I am grateful for stopping the madness. Don’t ever, ever think you will get any rest in a hospital. Ever. And if you are not in a private room it will be twice as bad. There is just no way to care for people, what with checking vitals and disturbing them a billion times a day. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone was fantastic, professional and even fun. . .but rest was simply elusive.
“Hi, I’m Eva, I’ll be checking your. . .” add any one of a dozen things. “Hi, I’m a volunteer, I woke you to see if you would like a magazine to read. It might help you sleep.” “Hi, I am Dr. Whatsitz, we’ve not met but I’ve been assigned to your case. Let’s see what type of surgery you had?” None. Wrong patient, doc. “Oh wait, wrong bed!” Thanks for waking me to tell me you made a mistake. Appreciate it. “You get some rest.” Yeah, right.
When your roommate, lovely as she is, has company you will not, but because you can’t help eavesdropping no matter what, forget disconnecting enough to “rest”. When you have company you will worry that your guests are keeping her awake. Co-dependency runs rampant in hospitals. At least it did with me.
Take any and all meds available to assist you so you can get a few precious hours of quiet sleep. . .then get a new roommate at 12:30 a.m. and watch old CSI’s until 4 a.m. when she’s “settled”, a billion of her details are entered into the computer and the lights finally go off and the nurse leaves saying, “Get some rest now.” Until 5. . .when the day starts all over again.
Add to the mix that every single person you encounter has all of YOUR answers, even strangers getting off the elevator, or those passing your room; then add the little side-affect from one of your drugs which makes you feel a little crazy and weepy; plus the disappointment and guilt of not being able to attend a long awaited out-of-town family wedding, therefore letting everyone down, but no one more than myself.
That was me. . .on complete sensory overload. My limited view. . .with no window. . .and the walls closing in rapidly and at the same time feeling as thought they were exploding around me. . . was too much. Strong as I am. . .even I have my limits. I would make a terrible hostage. “I’ll tell you anything! Just let me outta here!”
Stress, anxiety and sleep deprivation play a huge role in healing, so yesterday, when my blood pressure and other numbers started to get funky, possibly jinxing my going home. . . I shut ‘er all down. No computer, no phone, no coloring, no talking unless I absolutely HAD to. I became a blob who breathed. That’s it.
When I finally got home, I sat in complete, stark silence. Sometimes you just have to be selfish and stop the madness. And I’m going to be selfish today, too.