Orientation for the New Patient 101 - Section 1

THINGS NEVER TO ASK

First and foremost, never, Never, NEVER, EVER ask a doctor (or anyone else in a lab coat) to re-fill your ice/water pitcher.  Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy....if looks could kill...

My excuse was that since I was not wearing my glasses at the time, I had no clue as to the rank of the person awakening me from my sound sleep.  I also attribute an element of the blame unto them as well due to the fact that they informed me, "if there is anything else you need, let us know."  I felt I was only doing as instructed.

It didn't even take for me to don my eyewear to feel the intense glare permeating from them - icier than a tin toilet seat on the shady side of an iceberg (thanks Rob in Bloomington, IN for that wonderful analogy).  Not another word was uttered by the professional in the lab coat before their huffy and hasty retreat from the room.  Ima guessin' I won't be getting any Christmas cards from them this year.

Along the lines of the ice/water regime...the hospital does provide these very thick-walled, attractive 600 oz. sturdy sippy cups with a flexible straw and a tight-fitting (e.i. requires a “jaws of life” to remove it) lid. Albeit they are somewhat attractive (save for the hospital's logo emblazened upon their side) and they are very useful for home use (as a rain barrel or a backup aquarium). I am also sure they could serve to protect you from a tornado if you turn one over and crawl under it.

Howsomever, I am fairly sure that they do not stack well in a cupboard (or even in a carport) due to their size.  Having said that, they would make awesome margarita mugs.

Orientation for the New Patient 101 - Section 2

“DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO ANSWER THAT?”

I have found this response appropriate in a number of situations.
For instance:  a nurse walks in while you are in the final stages of consuming your breakfast of curds and whey with the spoon still headed for your lips. She asks, "Have you had anything to eat yet today?"
Me: do you really expect me to answer that?

Another instance:  you are in the bathroom, paying homage to the porcelain (or in this case aluminum) goddess after downing your latest new batch of meds.  You hear the door to your room open and someone repeatedly calling out your name. You finish recycling the contents of your stomach (honoring the time-honored, environmentally conscious mantra of reduce, reuse, regurgitate). You clean yourself up in as dignified a manner as possible and exit the bathroom as the nurse asks, "how are you feeling?"
Me: do you really expect me to answer that?

Or my all-time favorite instance:  a highly-educated and multi-degreed medical professional comes into your room and remarks (now remember, this is the same one who -after receiving their medical degree FORGOT how to fill a container with water and ice), "bet you are anxious to go home".
Me: do you really expect me to answer that?  Of course at this point in the conversation the humanitarian in me sometimes asks, "have you made your boat payment yet?" I have learned this can be a somewhat sensitive topic for the aforementioned medical professional since in Minnesota the lakes are sometimes frozen over 15 months of the year and so some boats never actually make it to the water.  We call them "show" boats.

Of course, there IS my favorite runner-up response from a couple of weeks ago. I had just been started on a new regimen of medications and 5 minutes hence proceeded to "spill my guts" all over the attending nurse, the doctor, the bed linens, the tray table, heck some even made it to the adjoining wall and window, onto the TV screen and even out into the hallway (images of the movie "The Blob" coming to mind?  Or even “Poltergeist?”).  Then the doctor - in all his years of wisdom and experience (and vast powers of observation and intuitive prognosis) remarks, "it looks like something didn't agree with you."
Me: did you go to school for that?

Orientation for the New Patient 101 - Section 3

IT'S ALL ABOUT CONTROL

(the environmental controls, that is)

If you are fortunate enough to get a room with an in-room thermostat, don't let that fool you.

Sometimes they are in place only “for show” and do not really have any kind of access controls on them and absolutely no functional purpose at all.  They are just a pretty little box to adorn the wall (and in which the realtor can hide a key – if needed). Some “New Age” feng shui thing, no doubt.

And...when they do have a dial or a control on them that you can actually access without one of those "dollhouse" screwdrivers (think eyeglass repair kits), it takes years of dedicated practice as well as a feat of prestidigitation and a slight of legerdemain to be able to accurately regulate the temperature to your comfort and satisfaction.  The thermostat in my room has a little dial-thingie on the underside of it that can only be read with your forehead and chin both simultaneously butted against the wall AND if you have the eyesight of Superman (or one of those high magnification monocles worn by watch makers and jewelers).  So, looking at the temperature indicator and set-temp gauge (can you tell I am not mechanically-inclined?), I very, Very, VERY carefully adjusted the teensy-weensy, itsy-bitsy sub-atomic sized dial thingie.

Now here's the thing.  No matter how minor of an adjustment I make on the little dial-thingie (turning it approximately 13/128^th of a turn in either direction) the temperature suddenly goes from 55 degrees to 92.7 degrees (or visa-versa) in 10 seconds flat - with no pit-stops in between. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $ 200...

Yesterday morning one of the doctors came into my room and remarked how chilly it was.  I whole-heartedly concurred (it was either a slight chuckle or a chattering of my teeth. I couldn't be certain which).  He then looked at the thermostat and (methinks mayhaps because his degree of specialty was NOT in HVAC) remarked, "I'll have someone look into that."  One hour, 39 minutes, 18.25 seconds later a nurse comes in with one of those (barely more than paper thin) blankets.  WOO HOO! My savior is here! YEAH RIGHT!

So I proceeded to have my go with the thermostat dial-thingie (not the approved technical term) again.  Needless to say, in about 10 minutes, the palm trees and cacti had sprung from the floor and were in full blossom and I actually think I heard the sound of seagulls in the background somewhere. I also do believe I was seeing a mirage of ice water pitchers shimmering in the distance beneath one of the palm trees.  I then asked the nurse if they stocked any sunscreen in their "magic closet” to which she just rolled her eyes up in her head at me (but I get that look a lot).

Orientation for the New Patient 101 - Section 4

SECURITY - TO PROTECT AND TO SERVE

For this observation, I need to give you a little background info.  One evening back in the early summer, while I was waiting for my cab outside the entrance to the hospital (standing within spitting distance of the revolving door, I was approached by a shady character who had seen me talking on my celery phone. The aforementioned “shady character” told me - in no uncertain terms - that he wanted my phone.  Having had an experience about 4 years prior of having been shot in the head 5 times by another such “shady character” who then stole my celery phone from me, I was not too overly anxious to repeat such a social encounter.

So I quickly stepped (read: ran like hell) away from him and called hospital security on my aforementioned celery phone to report the incident.  I figured that since there was a security guard just a scant few meters away from me just inside the building, I would receive a rapid response.  Guess my “figuring” was way off that evening. Perhaps the batteries had run low on my abacus.  Regardless, my cab ride appeared just moments later. I quickly hopped in and homeward bound I was.

The following evening (almost EXACTLY 24 hours after the incident had been reported to campus security), I received a phone call on my celery phone from aforementioned hospital security that went something like this...
Me:  good evening, this is Jim
Security:  this is campus security.  We received a report that you are being harassed by someone outside the ##### entrance (exact location cloaked to protect the identity of the security personnel involved).
Me:  yes, unfortunately, that was yesterday evening.
Security:  oh, I'm sorry.  We just received the dispatch.  Do you know if the person who harassed you is still there?
Me:  why I don't know.  Would you like me to bus all the way back to the hospital and check?  (Methinks mayhaps that would fall under the category of "DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO ANSWER THAT?" [see Section 2 above])

So now you have the background of my opinion of hospital security.

On to my current “vacation” at the same “resort”.  The other morning I was in search of a copy of each of the local daily newspapers; the Minneapolis Star Tribune and the St. Paul Pioneer Press.

There are Star Tribune newspaper boxes scattered all over the hospital campus INSIDE (key point) the various buildings.  However, the only Pioneer Press boxes are located OUTSIDE (another key point) the buildings, (with the exception of one a couple of blocks from where my accommodations are presently located).  Most of the OUTSIDE (remember, this is a key point) Pioneer Press boxes are literally within a foot or two of the entrances - but OUTSIDE (key point, but you already know that) the buildings.

So the morning after our near-record-breaking blizzard, I wanted to get a media perspective of the storm.  I quickly located a copy of the Star Tribune but upon discovering that the only Pioneer Press boxes within reasonable proximity were OUTSIDE (k.p.), I began my trip through the magical doors to the "outer world".  It was at this point that one of the (already infamous) hospital security personnel approached me and asked if I was a patient in the hospital.

I am not sure whether it was the open-posterior flowery hospital gown I was wearing, the brightly-colored wristbands listing my name and DOB and another listing my allergies or mayhaps it was the sutures running down the length of my right cheek or it might even have been the tell-tale drippings of blood on my t-shirt from the aforementioned sutures or maybe – just maybe...it was the IV pole I was dragging along with me with 2 bags of liquid meds hanging from the hooks and the IV running into my arm or.... I know - I know - it might have been the little hospital-issue socklets that I was wearing on my feet but something...SOMETHING must've clued him to my status as a patient as he continued to advise me that patients were not allowed to leave the building unless they were medically discharged or accompanied by a nurse.  He also advised that if they did leave the building, the only way they could re-enter would he if they were re-admitted through the Emergency Room.  So I asked him if I could give him the 50 cents to go get a paper from the paper box for me.  Jimbo...Jimbo...Jimbo, when are you EVER going to learn?

I did finally convince a young lad who was visiting his mother to run and fetch a paper for me - but not before being reprimanded by aforementioned security personnel that “panhandling” was strictly prohibited on the premises.  Somehow, I fail to see how my actions fell under the classification of “panhandling” since I was the one paying for the newspaper.  I reckon that some mysteries are just not meant to be solved.
SECURITY – TO PROTECT AND TO SERVE?!?!?

This type of behavior would NEVER have been permitted on Marcus Welby, MD or Ben Casey, Scrubs or Dr. Kildaire, Star Trek: The Next Generation– or even The Muppet Show.