Christine, from the Eddy Visiting Nurse Program, came here today to assess my status. She asked how I liked St.. Peter's new Orthopedic Wing, with private rooms, special beds and all that is needed to make orthopedic recovery ideal. It was scheduled to open June 30, but unfortunately, I missed out on that as the move is 2 weeks behind schedule. I related to her the more than several instances of subpar treatment, and she was appalled. She wants me to write a letter, and said she herself may do the same. Since I'm expecting as good a surgical result as last year at Samaritan, I told her I was reluctant to complain, now that it's in the past. But she insisted that the surgeons should know. I think they're already looking ahead to the new facility, and are just ready to forget the old. I don't know how many surgeries are scheduled by Ortho NY in the next 2 weeks, but I would think it's a considerable number.
Since I'm feeling a little blurry, though I haven't even yet touched the Percocet, I'll list only Christine's major concern: the risk of infection, ironically enough.
The emphasis on joint replacement surgery is to avoid infection at all costs. For 4 days before surgery, the patient is ordered to shower and shampoo as usual, and then wash and shower again using a prescription antibiotic cleanser. Then for 2 or 3 days to apply the prescription ointment to the nostrils twice a day. Sheets are to be clean the night before surgery as well as all clothing items after each shower. It's kind of a pain, but I did it faithfully, wanting to avoid any prospect of infection.
I'm a little vague about what happened after the surgery, knowing only that it must have ended around noon,(11:01, I'm told) and that the surgeon reportedly said the knee was in bad shape. I can't remember whether I was alone when I was moved to what was to have been my room for the night. But after my visitors had left, a woman was moved into the bed on the other side of the room, which was definitely neither a private room nor one exclusively for orthopedic patients, even for the first night. She was murmuring, probably post surgically, and there was no problem until the "visitor" arrived. He was obviously impaired, probably about 10 years younger than she, and to put it mildly, not well groomed. Not that there's anything wrong with that. What bothered me to some degree is that he walked into my side of the room and greeted me by name. I returned his greeting, wondering how he knew my name. I had no idea who the other patient was and I must say I was becoming uneasy. Men in their 40's normally are not interested in befriending older women, and ulterior motive entered my mind.
He made a quick trip into the PATIENTS ONLY BATHROOM, and returned more antic than before. There is no way to describe his speech other than ranting. He must have repeated at least a dozen times that he didn't know where her cane was, resorting to increasing degrees of profanity to make his point . Not that there's anything wrong with that either, I guess. He was mumbling by now, and saying something about going out to return bottles and buying something.
I had written 2 comments on a slip of paper and showed it to the nurse (Karen?) when she came into the room. I wrote that the visitor was impaired, and she readily agreed, saying she could tell by his eyes. My other written question was as to when visiting hours ended, and she said that unfortunately visiting hours never end, as per federal law. I didn't know this, remembering those announcements over the PA system ordering visitors out at 8:30 or so, doesn't seem so long ago, actually. She said that at a certain time, they lock all doors but the front entrance. (I guess they haven't had enough hospital shootings yet because it's been years since you could walk into unlocked doors at schools, federal buildings, etc.) I told her that I didn't want to stay in this room if that was the case, if he could leave, return and be there all night. She said she'd relay my concern and that's when things escalated. TBC
Part II
The nice young nurse reported back that unfortunately there were no other rooms available so I would have to stay there. I said I wouldn't and would go sleep in the lounge. I don't really know how this would come about because I had no idea where the lounge might be, or even if one existed, and also was just hours out from surgery and not quite able to even feel where my legs were. But I found out from the Eddy rep today that I had inadvertently used the magic phrase----that I didn't feel safe there. I said it because it happened to be true and I'd remembered that was one of the admission questions. The visiting nurse said it's a prime responsibility of hospitals to insure the safety of patients and if anyone ever wants to make a point, just use the words, "I don't feel safe."
Anyway, word came back that they had found another room, and so I was moved there. I've no idea of the room number, but there was another patient already there. Seems like a victory, but hold on.
After a time, I needed to have whatever help was needed to go to the bathroom, so I pressed the beeper. No response. I'm attached to an IV line, not yet even cleared to get out of bed. I pressed several more times. I remember counting up to 7 but continued on well beyond that number. No one responded. The woman in the next bed spoke up: "Would you try to be more considerate; I'm having serious surgery in the morning and am trying to rest." I apologized for disturbing her, but said I needed to get a nurse, and asked if she would ring her buzzer. She did and within 15 seconds, the nurse, Ann, appeared. She was directed over to me . I asked her why she had not responded to my 7-8 calls. (Actually more like 10-13 calls, but I didn't want to seem extreme.) Ann was one of the few remaining old school nurses, 40+ years of nursing she let me know, and she took that tone. The tone that makes me see red, even half sedated. "You're not my only patient, you know." "But yet you responded to the other patient's beep. That seems like discrimination to me." She goes deeper: "You're smarter than that, " she says, and then digging herself a bigger hole, said that she'd "already fulfilled one request for me." Grrr. ""Who are you to assess my intelligence, and is there a quota on requests a patient makes?" She tried to maintain her position for a while, but all of a sudden she seemed to deflate, and said she agreed with me, that she'd been wrong. So I got to go to the bathroom, or the nearest thing to it. Another nurse came in later and said Ann had gone home, that she wasn't feeling well. Too bad. I didn't feel so hot myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment