The thought of hospitals for everyone is different. Some go to get better, some go and never come home, some go in a "couple" and come out a family. No matter what, the hospital serves a purpose.
For most I think they are scary. They are big, white, sterile (although I never pass an antibacterial station I don't use!), smell funny and have lots of people. When you know someone who's at the hospital it's always hard to walk in the door. What am I going to see? What should I expect? Is it okay if I sit here? There's so much unknown.
Friday when I left the hospital, after a visit with Granny, I walked out feeling pretty confident. She's sick, she's a little uncomfortable, but she's still Granny. When she awoke from her nap, the first thing out of her mouth is not Hello, not I have to go to the bathroom, but "what did your Dr say?". Well baby is head down and everything looks good. I have to say, I think our family is slightly obsessed with babies, anything to do with babies! Anyways, I let her go back to sleep and would see her in a few days, most likely at home.
Sunday was less than 48 hours away, but world's apart from Friday. I had been updated on Saturday that the fluid they have been continually draining from the stomach was now in "pockets" and they are not able to drain it all just in one shot like before. In fact they couldn't even drain it all on Saturday. For me this was an "okay, so now what", for Granny this was devastating. She returned to her room, grabbed a warm washcloth, and began to cry. She knows more than any of us. At this point the pain was getting almost unbearable. Granny's 8 or 9 is a "normal" person's 20! Sunday they started her on Dilaudid (which is about 7x's stronger than Morphine) This helped with the pain, which is fantastic, but it also took "our" Granny away.
So back to Sunday, I had run to the market for something for dinner and got a call that I might want to head down to Santa Barbara. My heart sank. Why? I'm afraid? What do you say? I don't want anyone to see me cry! What's happening? So many questions and no answers. So rather than stop at the store we just kept driving. We parked, got our name tags and headed up the elevator. The whole time my heart was pounding and there was a lump in my throat, I had no idea what to expect. As we approached the floor, you could hear noise, didn't think too much about it. Soon the doors opened and there it was, about 50 familiar faces. Didn't know whether to cry, smile, laugh or what. Everyone was there. I said my hello's and walked to Granny's room.
Now remember, I left my Granny on Friday, but I walked into this person's room. A person I didn't recognize. A person I didn't know. I sat down, held her hand, and found my Granny. She is still there. She's always there. She just looks different. She's tired. She's afraid. Now again, for some this is the part of the hospital that's a double edged sword. No one wants to see someone in pain, tired, ect. They want to see the person they know, they remember. There are no rules when it comes to this, just emotions, and to say the least this was an emotional weekend.
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