A week long hospital stay should be included in coursework for any health care professional.
Being a patient puts a whole new perspective on how to care for patients well.
I was in the hospital I work at and received excellent care.
But there were some nurses that just went above and beyond to see ME and care for ME, and the difference could be felt.
I would have rather avoided those 11 days, but I did learn a lot.
Some reflections:
Home is a slice of heaven on earth.
Knowing how to be your own advocate is invaluable.
Learning to be in the moment, and find happiness and peace where I am.
(Or keep praying and adjusting my focus until I can get there.)
Some times you just need to cry.
There is a sweet spot to place your hips in hospital beds that doesn't make them quite so sore.
Hospital pillows are like fluffy, slippery cement. Bring a pillow from home.
The hospital needs a new milkshake machine. It broke twice while I was there.
IVs itch after they have been in for a week.
When my IV was flushed I could smell/taste the saline in my nose/mouth... weird.
A shower can be the best medicine.
The hospital really does make good oatmeal. Seriously. Delicious. No really, GOOD.
Didn't know how much longer I wanted to go without cuddling with Bailey.
FRESH AIR... can make a person cry.
I am sure I'm forgetting something, but those are my reflections for now.
My last day, I was able to talk to a parent liaison from the NICU (She actually is married to one of Steve's co-workers... and she was a joy to speak with). She is there to walk along side parents during their time in the NICU and it was such a gift to get to talk to her. Even though I have worked on babies in the NICU and I already know the staff and what to expect, it's a different perspective knowing OUR baby might be in the NICU.
How about a hospital tour?
My room. The infant isolet wasn't the favorite of some of my guests. They didn't like the doom/gloom approach. To me, whatever, I understand the wanting it close from a care providing standpoint.
The bench in the back was a good option to get a little more daylight or sun on me, but as an option for Dad's to sleep on overnight? There is room for improvement there. Don't know how the Dad's do it.
The monitors. Got hooked up to those for an hour in the morning and an hour at night. Thankfully it wasn't all day. That little baby boy is a mover and a groover and doesn't like to sit still for monitoring.
And, the bed. Usually it had at least 7 pillows piled on in an attempt to find comfort.
She's beauty and she's grace, she's miss united states....
Not so much.
The hospital can be exhausting. This is proof.
But baby is big enough to give me a belly!
My view.
Could have been better. The view at the end of the hallway was much better.
And how much can you really see inside when looking in from outside?
We never really researched it properly.
Who in the history of ordering French Toast has EVER only wanted ONE, (1), singular slice?
And you have to specifically ask for real bacon, otherwise they try to give you healthier options.
Same with butter, you have to ask for real butter, otherwise they give you margarine.
Anyhow, despite the bacon and butter, I manged to lose 2 pounds while in the hospital.
Because they would only serve me one slice of French Toast!
I went back to oatmeal after this.
We're back home!
And I put Steve to work. After he had
caught up on some sleep. Me being in the hospital put quite the pinch on
his time. I'm so grateful for him :)Bailey is obviously helping.
My old dresser redone! My dad was marvelous and came to the rescue. He (under mom's direction) removed the bottom drawer to make it a proper changing table height, sanded it and, repainted it a pretty light grey color.
(The picture doesn't do the real color justice.)
You can also see the state the nursery was in.
Another view of how prepared the nursery was.
The new crib!!!!
Or, rather, where the new crib is being built.
Isn't that a pretty new planer?
It was necessary, I'm told :)
Making progress.
Re-purposed dresser, hand me down bouncer and car seat.
The crib will go in the corner eventually.
Some re-used and some new shelving.
This photo is me stalking Steve in the driveway from inside the house.
He sold the Harley.
I cried.
The man took the bike right then.
I cried some more.
Sympathy tears for him getting rid of one of his boy toys?
I cried.
Shouldn't I have taken some goodbye pictures?
Crying!
Anyhow, there is the latest.
I remained unchanged and stable at my last post hospital appointment. I went to the appointment with bag packed, ready to head back up to the hospital.
When he said everything looked good and I knew I wasn't going back to the hospital...
I cried.
I think there is a theme.
