Mum's hospital roomies #1

Dear Bro,

As you know mum recently had a short visit to the hospital, staying about 4 days in the general ward while she recovered from several symptoms. During this time period she was what is politely referred to as a "semi-private" room, meaning that there is no privacy whatsoever as there is another person in the room in the bed next to you.

Or in mum's case, several people....

But lets talk about patient number one, an elderly lady who apparently was suffering from stomach pains that they had checked her into the hospital to diagnose while they gave her some pain medication. At least, this is my interpretation from the conversation between the nurse and herself from the other side of the brown vinyl privacy curtain.

At this point they had just wheeled mum into her room and the nurse had not yet gotten over to help mum. We sat behind the curtain and listened in.

Patient 1: "I'm very cold. Can you turn up the heat in the room?"

Nurse: "Why don't I get you some blankets to help keep you warm."

Patient 1: "I don't know about that. I would like the heat turned up. It is so cold in here."

(For the record, it was probably about 72F in the room.)

Nurse: I will get you a blanket. I will be back in a minute after I check on the patient who just came in.

The nurse comes over and starts going through mum's chart and asking questions. After about 3-4 minutes we hear...

Patient 1: Nurse... Nurse.... Nurse?

The nurse quickly finishes up the initial questions with mum and goes back behind the brown vinyl curtain.

Nurse: Yes?

Patient 1: Nurse, I am very cold. Can you go and turn up the heat to 80.

(At this point mum and I exchange stares involving raised eyebrows)

Nurse: Why don't I get you those blankets to help keep you warm.

Patient 1: Oh no! They are so heavy on my legs. I would rather you turn up the heat.

Nurse: Well, I guess I could get a fan for the person next to you.

Patient 1: Oh no! No fans in the room.. I could catch pneumonia! No, I want the heat turned up.

Nurse: No, the fan would be on the other patient, not yourself.

Patient 1: Oh no Nurse, I don't want a fan in the room. I just want the heat turned up.

Nurse: Well, I have to make sure everyone in the room is comfortable.

Patient 1: What do you mean? I was here first!!! I want the heat turned up. I am freezing.

Mum at this point, in her weakened state, said over the curtain to just go ahead and turn up the heat to assist in ending the discussion between patient number one and the nurse.

After that the nurse left for a spell to check on other patients. She promised to return within a short period of time to give mum her medications. Within a few minutes we heard the sound of the buzzer being pushed to activate the nurse station intercom. Nothing happened for several minutes and again we heard the buzzer being pushed.

Nurse through intercom at other bed: Yes?

Patient 1: I think there is something terribly wrong with my IV. My arm is turning red!

Nurse through intercom at other bed: Is it causing you any pain?

Patient 1: No, but something must be wrong with it. And I am very cold!

Nurse through intercom at other bed: We'll have someone to you as soon as possible.

Patient 1: Okay.

Mum and I chatted some more, but always with an ear to the brown vinyl curtain.

The nurse from earlier came back to give mum some shots through her IV. Within three seconds the lady next door heard her.

Patient 1: Nurse... Nurse... Nurse....

Nurse: I am with another patient, Mrs. XXXXX, I will be over as soon as I can.

The interaction with patient 1 did not vary from this routine for the rest of time I spent at the hospital with mum that evening.

When I returned in the morning the other bed was empty. Mum stated that they had finally moved her to the next room over later that night, as it was empty and they could turn up the heat to help stop the pleadings of patient 1.

Later that afternoon she stuck her head around the corner, appearing fully dressed in street clothes. (well, as close to street clothes that an 80 year old is willing to be seen in)

Patient 1: Excuse me, I was in the next bed yesterday.

Me: Yes, ma'am.

Patient 1: My son is coming to get me. Can you tell him I am in the next room instead of here.

Me: Yes, ma'am.

Openings like this occur rarely in a lifetime. The evil devil on my right shoulder envisioned her son showing up, entering the room, and asking where his mother is. And my response, with eyes down and a gloomy voice.

"I'm sorry sir, she's gone."

Needless to say I did not do it. However, as expected, I did feel sorry for her son as he had a nice smile as he asked about his mother but was probably the most brow-beaten 55 year old man I had seen in a long time.