The HospitVALzation: Part 6, The Eviction

We are up to Wednesday afternoon, Feb 2, 48 hours into Val's Unfortunate Hospitalization. I'd had a visit from Dr. Debra, who agreed to give me another day, due to the incoming snowstorm and me not feeling ready to be on my own just yet in such conditions.

A team had been tending to my roommate after Dr. Debra left. She had a different doctor and issues of which I am not aware. Only that she never communicated directly, had lots of stuff hooked up, though apparently was not ventilated, because they switched her CPAP to nose prongs because of skin irritation. Again, I tried not to listen, but heard Shannon our patient care tech telling her while doing vitals that she was going to have family come in to visit, that they were talking to the doctors right then. This seemed curious, since I was not allowed visitors.

At 4:38, Shannon returned in a flurry, telling me, "We are moving you to another room! Is this all your stuff? I'm getting a wheelchair. I'll be right back. Here. Put on your shoes."

Well! Such excitement. I couldn't really do anything in a hurry. But I got on the side of the bed. Told Shannon that I needed help with the shoes. She got me in them, and in the wheelchair. Plopped my bag of belongings on my lap. Covered me with a blanket I'd asked for earlier. I'd grabbed my cell phone charger from the wall by my port a potty, and my glasses off the tray table. Stuffed them in my bag.

Shannon pushed me past my roomie, and into the hall just outside the door. I saw a woman in a Salvation Army-looking suit, perhaps a chaplain, come out of my room as I was parked there. People at the nurses' desk behind Shannon were chanting, "Mask! Mask!" So she grabbed a yellow paper version for me to strap on. The good thing about this hospital is that once in your room, you didn't have to wear a gosh-darn mask every time somebody came in, like at the North ER. The staff was always in a plain mask and a face shield here.

Shannon was a strong little pusher! She whisked me away from the 200 hall to the 100 hall. Took me right in as I was questioning whether she could get my port a potty sent over.

"I'm going to put you in the first bed, by the bathroom. So you shouldn't need it."

Indeed, she helped me out of the wheelchair and onto the side of the bed. It was a different kind of bed, though I can't exactly explain how. It was down as low as it would go, but the middle section kept my feet from touching the floor when I sat down. Shannon called on her shoulder radio about a tray table. They said she'd have to bring mine from the other room. So she cautioned me not to move, and took off to get it. When she returned, she parked it on the right side of my bed, so I had clear access to get to the bathroom without moving it around. They don't roll so good!

"Okay. I'm putting your clothes in this cabinet, on the bottom. Your shoes are here under the sink. You can charge your phone on this ledge under the mirror. You will be having a roommate as soon as they bring her back from dialysis."

"Will you be able to fit a bed past me? It doesn't look like there's room."

"Oh, we'll get it in here!"

"And will you pull that curtain? Because it doesn't really bother ME, but every time I get up for the bathroom, my backside is going to be exposed to the person in that bed!"

"Yes. We can do that."

Off went Shannon, and I was left to get out my glasses and text Hick that I was now in a different room. I overheard the caregivers in the hall, while they were waiting on my new roomie, saying that my old roomie was on end-of-life care, and the daughter was going to stay in the room that night. So a very sad situation, though I didn't know the nature of her illness.

New Roomie arrived in a flurry of activity. Shannon spun my bed sideways, the foot touching the bathroom door, the left side up against the sink, and my tray table was jammed up against the right side of my bed.

"Don't try to get up," said Shannon. Heh, heh. AS IF I could have even tried!

They pushed New Roomie's bed past me and got it in place by the window. Left the curtain wide open. Several of them told her she looked so much better than when they brought her in. They left her and put my bed back into place. It's not like we had a proper introduction! But people aren't in the hospital to make new friends. In fact, both times I'd been put in a room, the patient care techs had bemoaned the loss of private rooms.

New Roomie was a little vocal. I didn't think she was talking to me. I didn't answer. I couldn't really understand what she was saying. Then she'd sing a little tune. I pretty much just watched my TV, and didn't look over. Got up for the bathroom while flashing some ample rumpus. It is what it is.

About a half-hour later, I glanced over at New Roomie, and saw she was sitting up in bed, with her knees drawn up. That's a trick I hadn't mastered in that bed. Also, she had taken off her gown!

Shannon came in to do vitals. She went to New Roomie first. "Here now, Miss Maisy! You can't be sitting around like that! Let's get you covered up." 

Miss Maisy replied something. Shannon said, "Did you understand that?"

"Nope. She's been talking, but I don't get it."

"Miss Maisy, what language are you speaking? I don't know. She looks like maybe she might be Hawaiian or something. I don't understand. But one thing's pretty sure: she's not gonna care if you get up and show your butt!"

"I think you got that right!"

The supper trays were brought in, and Shannon put mine on my tray table, and took Miss Maisy's over to her tray table.

 

It was spaghetti, garlic toast, steamed broccoli, salad, vanilla wafers, and applesauce. Plus my delicious water that I craved. I always poured the ice and water into one of my tray table styrofoam cups, so I wouldn't have to ask for water later. Can there be anything harder to eat while lying on your back in bed than spaghetti? Maybe soup. Anyhoo, I ate all the spaghetti, though it's not a favorite of mine. And all the garlic toast. Half the broccoli. A few bites of salad. A couple bites of applesauce. Half a vanilla wafer. Not a fan.

Apparently, Miss Maisy only ate her applesauce. Which she generously shared with her sheets, though not her gown, which was off again. Because when Shannon came in to get the trays, she made that discovery, and had to call Tabbi for assistance in getting Miss Maisy cleaned up with new sheets. They were upset that her bed didn't even have those pad liner thingies on it.

Shannon and Tabbi discussed how it seemed like a fourth of their patients had some kind of issues like this where they didn't respond. Like that was an unusual number. Don't know what was going on and where the patients were coming from. Nursing homes, perhaps. But my two roomies did not seem to be there for the VIRUS like me.

After 7:00, my new nurse came in. His name was Alex, and he brought me a little plastic breather thingy. I'm sure you've seen them. A tube that you suck on to raise a plastic thingy to a certain height that's marked on the apparatus.

"You should do 10 breaths every hour that you're awake. Here's your goal."

Alex gave my Lovenox shot in the belly, and flushed my IV line. I told him I should be going home the next day, and wanted to make sure I got my vitamins back from wherever they were being held.

"Oh, I'll go get them right now." Which he did, and set them on the counter by the door. On one of my bathroom trips, I nabbed them and put them in my bag in the cabinet.

My new patient tech was a more mature woman than the previous two. Alex did not write her name on the board, so I'll call her Doris. She was concerned about Miss Maisy having a thingy in both arms for the dialysis, and called Alex, and they discussed taking her blood pressure in the leg instead. They also left the window shade open, so Miss Maisy and I could enjoy the snowfall. Which was billowing down, making me cold to watch. This room was in front of the hospital's main entrance. Every 10 minutes or so, a plow drove through the circle drive. Not seeming to make a dent in the fallen snow.

At 3:30 a.m., the phlebotomist found me, exclaiming, "You've moved!" She took her three vials and then went to Miss Maisy, apologizing all the while, explaining why she was there. Miss Maisy sang her a little tune, and said a couple of "No! No!" But seemed to rebound from the invasion with a little song.

Shortly after 5:00 a.m. on Thursday, Feb 3, Alex brought my thyroid pill. Breakfast came before 8:00. Scrambled eggs and toast, and a plastic bowl of cornflakes, which I might have eaten if enough time. But I was communicating with Hick about my pickup. Not as simple a task as you might imagine...

TO BE CONTINUED...