The Five People You May Meet in a Hospital

I've never really been bothered by hospitals; despite death, sickness and whatever nasty things happen in them. My recent fiasco introduced me to more than the sterile white walls and the hard gurneys. I met some faces behind St. Mark's and I discovered people I loved, hated and everything in between.  There are five types I have met that I wanted to share.
1. The Optimist:  The optimist has no place in a hospital, unless they're going to say, "You're cancer free" or "You get to go home."  My optimist experience happened shortly after my arrival.
I went to St. Marks Hospital to find out of I was going into preterm labor--due to the monstrous back pain I have developed.  A few quick questions, a fetal heart monitor and blood pressure check and here comes the optimist. The hospital's OBGYN, with a bright/fake smile on her face and her almost child-sized doctor's jacket hanging too big off her small frame.  With that same happy smile (only hinting at the fear her job brings her) and a high pitched voice she says, "Your pain is probably from your sciatic nerve and there's nothing we can do for you," and under her breath she mutters something about a Doppler test for my swollen leg.
It's great she actually had the test done, it found my slow blood flow and the blood clot eventually, but I'm pregnant and my back may or may not have exploded that day.  Don't bring a smile and tell me nothing can be done..I'll bite you.
2. The Exchange Student:  I don't meant to stereotype but I was shocked when our evening doctor came by with a heavy European accent. When he came in and started asking the same questions, it was really hard to actually understand what he said.  Dave was suspicious about his vampire abilities and I felt like I should cover my new ugly red scab so he wouldn't start sucking my blood or something. He was very nice, I just wish I could understand him so we could understand what/where we were going tomorrow or the next day.
3. Nurse A: My first nurse in Labor & Delivery was awful.  We had matching names, which made it worse.  She asked the questions, threw on the monitor and checked my blood pressure--that's it.  This irks me.  Her job is to take care of me and the other patients. I felt like I was either a number or just another step in the conveyor belt of hospital work. It was extremely frustrating, especially when I have pain.
4. Nurse B: The rest of my nurses were awesome. The same ones came in day after day and actually helped me out--which was great when I'm on bedrest.  The morning nurses even smelled lovely. Like they actually cared what they looked like and did for a living. Not to mention their legit smiles and sympathetic smiles. I freaking loved my time with them at the Postpartum Ward.  They checked more than my vitals--checked my water, pain and everything else. When it came to showing Dave and I the process of giving shots, they walked us through nice and slow to help us feel more confident in the process.
5. Radiology:  Who knew radiology would be so awesome. They simplified my life immensely. After two ultrasounds on my left leg/groin area, they let me kick it in their department until the "surgery/process" for checking out my veins was ready.  So I didn't have to go back to Labor & Delivery. The assistants also provided me the much needed water and some entertaining magazines to pass the time. They were awesome and their attitudes kept me calm despite the increased awkward/odd situation of my awkward veins.

St. Mark's Hospital was overall a positive experience. Each person held their own sort of experience for me as a patient.  I just wish all the people we interacted with spoke English natively and had a genuine sense of care for the situation.


Love From a Drunken Stranger

A Friday, July 1, the day of a magical three day weekend for many individuals. Many hours after the 2:00 p.m. leave of the company (in general). A few choice individuals, including myself, was left to pick up the pieces of system failure and loss of programming. Then I decided it was a day for Grease Burger...I mean Crown Burger.
I never tire of working downtown. The sights, the sounds, late night empty roads and strange drunken bums.
While standing at a light a man in his fifties pulls up next to me on his bicycle--that's not code for motorcycle or chopper. I'd been standing there a while, waiting for the light to change and he found it an appropriate time to comment to me, "If you stand there long enough, I'll have to flirt with you."
I laughed and hoped he would just walk away, instead he called me beautiful.  After a short conversation he says, "Stay out of trouble. I love you. I'll see you later." and proceeded to ride his bike away--in the middle of the intersection that was still moving with heavy traffic.  At least he was wearing a helmet.
Even in 90 degree weather, a bright red sunburn and a roundish belly, I still got it--a questionably intoxicated fifty year old me on bicycles will hit on me downtown and risk his life while declaring their love. Romanticism still lives on in downtown Salt Lake City--across from the Crown Burger.