Monday, 18 April 2011
P is for Patients
I have come to dread being a patient in hospital. So awful are the scare stories (and the experiences of family and friends), that I know a lot of people, like me, would do a great deal not to be admitted to hospital.
This post was going to be a jolly one about potty-training (well, at least it usually begins with a pee), but something has happened to make me so FURIOUS, that I'm writing about this instead.
My sister, in her sixties, handicapped and wheelchair-bound (but amazingly positive and up-beat), has been admitted to hospital with a broken ankle. So far so good. But now for the bad bit. Because of her physical problems, it has been decided to keep her in for a couple of days. Fine. But now here's where common sense and caring go out of the window. Because she's in an observation ward, not a proper ward, she doesn't really exist as an in-patient, and so she doesn't get proper meals. They feed her on sandwiches, because, you see, she's not really there. Geddit? So really I suppose she's lucky to be fed at all. But two days of nothing but sandwiches isn't really much good for a shocked paient in pain, especially someone like her.
So what I want to know is, what the f*** is the sister in charge doing? Where is her duty to the well-being of her patients? When I was a sister back in the dark ages, when nurses were nurses, it was my JOB to make sure that my patients were properly fed and watered, comfortable and not in pain. What exactly are these nurses DOING? Isn't adequte nutriton covered in their new, all-graduate training?
I know this is one small instant, but she is my sister, and I cannot believe that it is beyond the wit of man (or woman) to phone the hospital caterers and ask for a hot meal or two.
So if you're fond of sandwiches and feel you would benefit from a spot of (un)healthy negelect, hospital may be the place for you. Otherwise, for goodness' sake stay away. For modern healthcare can seriously damage your, well, health.