h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Lil Arrives at Ladera

If you've never spent an extensive period of time in a hospital, I would like to try and give you some insights into the experience.

The most important thing is that your life and well-being are in other people's hands, not your own; you have no control over the great issues, so many patients will attempt to seize control of the little things. Some do it with diplomacy and some do it by becoming royalty in their own minds. Some are entirely passive and others have to be watched because they are looking for the opportunity to grab their clothes and go AMA. Some people cooperate with their care givers and others treat the aides like dirt.

I like to think I'm a diplomat. Once I was ensconced at Specialty, I was curious about the people around me. I learned their names, joked with them, learned and remembered things about them. I didn't get on with all of them, but I was civil. Later on at Ladera I would hear and witness some stupendous displays of rage and rudeness. I imagine the staff are trained to recognize that a lot of people are lashing out at their circumstances and that tantrums should not be taken personally, but, boy howdy, you have to wonder what well of nastiness some patients are drawing from. And of course some of them are on drugs, literally not themselves. I'll not soon forget hearing Linda walking up the hall, laughing, "Well, now I've been called a nincompoop!"

Older folks tend to be very disoriented the first night or so. It's common for them to disrobe, even more common for them to leave their bed and wander into the hall, looking for their own kitchen or bathroom. One of my elderly room mates became so angry with me that she left the room and never came back. Her bitter complaint was that I had not turned the lights off and gone to sleep at 7 p.m. Like I ought to. As it happened that evening, my netbook was shanghai'd by a very large system update, so it was sitting near me on my bed while I read from my kindle. She saw the square-ish screen of the netbook, presumed I was watching tv, and stomped off to complain to the nurse about my selfish ways.

She was found lying on one of the settees in the front reception area -- hardly a dark or quiet venue -- and flat out refused to return to our room. A patient had been sent out [to hospital] that afternoon, so that bed was hastily made ready for her, and her things were taken to her the next morning. She was quite venomous about me and my evident sense of privilege. Well, we were never meant to be. If she couldn't tolerate my having the light on at 8:30 p.m., she would have come undone when the aide repositioned me (chattily) at 9:30, again at midnight and yet again at 4 a.m.!

This is all an exculpatory preface for how I behaved when I first got to Ladera. I didn't know Albuquerque at all. I didn't know where I was, mapwise, at Specialty. I got the notice to move with just 24 hours notice. I was wheeled in, placed in a bed with little natural illumination, and now knew even less about where I was. All my new acquaintances were history and I had to start again. Same with my daily routine and the same with my diet. When was dinner?

The rest of the afternoon was alternately stressful and tedious. A woman came from administration with a thick sheaf of papers requiring lots and lots of signatures, and detailed explanations aimed well below my level of intelligence. Dinner came. So did another administrator, with more papers to be explained and signed. I was hot. My medications hadn't arrived from the pharmacy by the time I slept.

The next morning I was regarding a pile of unsalted scrambled eggs when I became aware of movement at the door. There stood three people, all with clipboards and/or bundles of papers. I became very cross. "Oh, take a number!" I exclaimed, "I'm eating." "Shall we come back later?" asked a woman sweetly. "Sure," I retorted, "But why not try and space yourselves out a little?" They backed off with blank faces and I grumbled to my room mate's son (loud enough for them to hear), "Don't these people talk to each other??" He shook his head no.

Dan came back later to do an evaluation. He eventually took my case as occupational therapist and has become a good and esteemed friend, but that morning, I thought him rather dour. I was still in a sort of narcissistic frenzy of stress, and it never occurred to me that moi had behaved poorly. Then someone arrived to interview me to see how I might fit into Activities, so I was asked about hobbies and did I like bingo and how sociable was I, questions that I answered with some incredulity. I had quite lost track of my Inner Diplomat.

[Amy P]

Deb

"Narcissistic frenzy of stress"... I've been guilty of that quite a bit, lately. You expressed it very well. Thank you for sharing.

'Walk a mile in my shoes before you can understand me' is so true. I try to hold to that.

Although my natural childishness immediately kicks in and I think 'If I walk a mile in your shoes I will not only have a new pair of shoes but will also be too far away for you to catch me.'