kick me when i'm down, i like it

It was a pretty craptastic day today.

I don't really feel the need to list the details except it involves my Mom, a trip to the ER, and a whole morning and afternoon of nervous waiting for results from a CAT scan and other tests. Though my Mom was conscious for the whole time and the tests for anything seriously bad came back negative, I talked to the doctors on duty and they all recommended strongly that we see a specialist in cardiology because of EKG results.

First thing in the morning, I have to remind her to make an appointment.


.:.


Waiting with my mom in the ER room, I was reminded how much I dislike hospitals. My dislike of the particular hospital we were at also probably has to do with the fact that I went there everyday for about a month back when I was 5th grade. It's the same hospital my father spent his last days in before his death.

I was happy with the fact that staff was very friendly, especially the residents in charge of my mother's room - a white guy with a linebacker-esque build who kept bringing my mom freshly warmed blankets, and a tall, skinny white girl who gave us updates on the next test or wait time. There was also a Chinese girl doctor who let me in and out of the ER to make calls on my cell, since cell phone use is banned in the ER. All the staff looked surprising young... 30 or younger.

But yeah, I hate hospitals.

It's not that I feel a particular hatred for the idea of centralized institutions of professional medical care, but the buildings in which they're in are often horrible. I understand the need for an ultra-sterile environment, but does it have to be so aesthetically so depressing? I hate the blank, windowless and pictureless walls, the hideous prints on the curtains, and worst - the poor sound installation and nasty smells.

A larger lady in a bed next to my mother's in the triage room happened to be getting a colonoscopy, and it wasn't the "virtual" one... it was the old-fashioned invasive kind with a big 'ol tube and machine that they wheeled out. There was a large curtain separating my mom's bed and the lady's, but we could hear every single shout and yelp of pain from throughout the whole procedure, and no, the fat lady didn't sing. She screamed.

My mother and I exchanged silent, grimaced looks as we were forced to listen.


.:.


When we were discharged from the hospital, my mom wanted to eat jook, but I ruled out driving to Chinatown since I wanted to pick up the doctor's prescriptions and take her home to rest. We got some burgers instead... somewhat ironic my mom, after this whole medical episode, was craving fast food.

I spent the rest of the day making sure she was rested and I took a nap too, since I didn't get a lot of relaxation at the ER. I guess as crappy as things have been lately, I still wasn't expecting this. Later, I made a late dinner for us and it was more healthy...



...some ghetto fabulous pan-fried fish and mashed potatoes.
posted by G at 11:55 PM   |

in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
1. The act or an instance of inscribing.
2. Something, such as the wording on a coin, medal, monument, or seal, that is inscribed.
3. A short, signed message in a book or on a photograph given as a gift.
4. The usually informal dedication of an artistic work.
5. Jeremiah 31:33