Things I've Learned After 10+ Days at the Hospital

    Well, after a week and a half at the hospital my dad is finally home! I'm happy he's all safe and sound.    
                      He still has a little ways to go before he's completely better but he'll get there. 

When you spend that much time at the hospital you learn a few things. 
  •     The chairs are uncomfortable.
  •         The blankets are the equivalent of sandpaper.
  •         If something isn’t beeping in the room at least every ten minutes, the world probably ended.

  •         If you get to park within a half mile of the hospital you got lucky.
  •         The “small” ice cream in the cafeteria is larger than a pint of good ol’ Ben & Jerry’s.
  •         Ten laps around the floor equals a mile.
  •         37.7 degrees celsius = 99.8 degrees fahrenheit.
  •         The elevators are basically a clown car. You think it’s full and then 10 more people pile in.
  •         Nightly entertainment includes what I’m assuming is something like the nurse version of the changing of the guards and watching the Jazz keep up that awesome losing streak.
  •         They do what Buddy the Elf refers to as a “finger prick” every 2 hours to find out his blood sugar level.
  •         The cute x-ray tech, David, is single and about 27-28.
  •         The free internet is extremely slow. If I get to see 10 pins in an hour, I’m gettin’ lucky.
  •         There is no level 3 or 13 in the patient tower. 3s = death.

  •         Puffy eyes are the norm.
  •         If you go to the cafeteria around lunchtime it’s what we like to call combat dining.
  •         The hospital is busier on weekends.
  •         I can see my brother’s house from the room we’re in.
  •         The minutes here are even longer than a treadmill minute or a microwave minute.
  •         “You’ll be going home tomorrow” means nothing.
  •         The “sips and chips” diet translates directly to prescribed anorexia.
  •         “Code Trauma: Alert 1” means somebody is bleeding to death and the surgeon needs to meet them at the door with the operating table.
  •         There’s no such thing as TMI.
  •         Dad can score us anything they have available on the floor… water, soda, Italian ices. I’m sure they’d even bring us some broth if we asked.
  •         When all else fails, call 33333.  

goin' home! 

1 comment:

  1. Ky! Why didn't you tell me about your dad? I guess I was a couple weeks behind on your blogs, sorry I didn't know! Hope he's doing better...oh yeah and guess who's going shopping Thanksgiving Eve in Park City?!? You wanna come? ;) Let's do lunch soon! What do you have going on this Friday afternoon?