Yesterday morning my husband had a heart valve replacement. We live five minutes from one of the largest medical complexes in our state.
We arrived at 7:20am for a 7:30am check-in…and then you wait. He was scheduled for surgery at 9:30am.
We started off in a prep room where all the vitals are checked about every ten minutes. Staff is in and out of the room constantly. Multiple blood tests, portable EKG, he was shaved from his shoulders almost to his knees, and in between you are asked what seemed like one million questions.
Almost immediately we were told that they were behind schedule and we were not surprised. In between surgeries the doctor came in to see us and explain everything. He was very thorough and actually had a terrific bedside manner. And he didn’t make us feel rushed although he had to get to another patient waiting in the OR.
The attending nurse that was with us from the time we got there was terrific. We talked about Greece (our favorite destination), TV shows, and so much more. He kept performing the tests on my husband and chatting with us without missing a beat. It was a pleasant experience.
We were also told at some point that my husband’s procedure was going to be delayed by about an hour. Good thing I brought a little project with me so I started working on that while staff kept coming in for various reasons.
Finally they took him to surgery and I went to an area that was a family waiting room…which was about 4 times the size of my house. There is an ‘update’ desk where I had to check in, they took my phone number for texted updates on my husband, and I had to wear a wrist band to prove that I was allowed to be there and ask questions. There are large monitors on the walls just like the monitors in an airport.
Patients first name and last initial. There are five columns…each with a checkmark as to the status of the patient. Example: being prepped, in surgery, in recovery, in a room, etc. Plus I also received constant text updates.
Much to my surprise my husband’s sisters came to sit with me. We had lots to talk about since one of our niece’s is getting married, they just bought a house, and there’s a shower being planned. We planned the menu for the shower, and decorated the new house, in a few short hours. My niece will be happy to know that her house will be move-in ready!🤣
What nobody told us was that for six hours after surgery, my husband had to lay perfectly flat and still to make sure that the arteries were given a chance to start the healing process and prevent bleeding. I was allowed to see him for ten minutes (they timed me) and had to leave because he was in recovery and wouldn’t be getting his own room for a few more hours. I went home and waited for the call.
I got the call sooner than expected and went back to the hospital and that’s when our new ‘normal’ became reality.
He was in a different building than he was that morning which meant a different parking structure. When I asked for the address of the building, the nurse didn’t know. Seriously, you don’t know the address where you work? She did know the color of the color-coordinated parking structure though. When I asked for the room number, I was told that when I get to the front desk and give the patients name, I would be given the room number at that point. Seriously? Is this hospital being run by the witness protection program?
Trying to argue with these people is like arguing with the TSA at the airport. You just don’t do it. They have the upper hand.
I found said parking structure, took an elevator to the second/main floor, and had to wait in line for what seemed like an eternity. You have to show your drivers license, they take your picture, you are given a clip-on badge with your picture and a bar code, and head through security…which happens to be just like the airport. My purse was searched and I had to walk through a metal detector. There were three police officers. After the metal detector I came upon some glass doors that wouldn’t open and I didn’t know what to do.
Well, the bar code on my name tag had to be scanned and then the doors opened. I can’t even begin to explain what I was thinking and feeling at that moment. I came this close to calling my husband to tell him I was going home and I’d send an Uber for him this morning because this is bulls**t. It’s been YEARS since I needed to visit someone in the hospital and my first experience like this.
I got to his room but felt like a mouse in a maze trying to find my way through this building. Very intimidating. I got on the elevator with three members of the staff and asked them if there is a GPS tracker I can use to find my way around. They chuckled and helped me find my way. There are signs, arrows, color-coordinated circles, etc. to help you find your way.
I stayed about two hours and then left because I was exhausted. Got home, wasn’t hungry, checked emails, took a sleeping pill and went to bed.
Here’s the kicker…I get to go through Checkpoint Charlie again this morning to pick him up. 🙄
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