Why I Hate Hospitals
But I don't hate this one
Does anyone really like being at the hospital? I mean, really? Most of them are dreary, solemn places where people go when they’re sick or hurting, so they’re generally not very lively. And to me, they don’t seem to have the kind of environment that really promotes healing. If you have picked up anything about me in reading my posts, you’ve probably gathered that I don’t like traditional Western medicine, and there are many reasons for that. I do believe that all branches of medicine have their place, so there are times when the hospital is going to be the first place I’ll go. Betsy needing heart surgery to correct her AV canal defect definitely falls into that category. We’ll come back to that, and I’ll tell you all about her hospital stay.
In general, I don’t like doctors or hospitals. So many doctors merely prescribe medications pushed on them by drug reps, these medications having side effects that are often worse than the original ailment, and are probably just treating symptoms rather than the root of the problem. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a time for pharmaceutical meds, but more often than not, a better course of treatment can be found. How often can we halt a disease in its tracks merely by discontinuing our unhealthy behaviors that are causing it in the first place? I mean sure, that would require taking some responsibility for our health, but is that really such a bad thing? Our bodies naturally heal themselves most of the time, but we so often suppress our natural healing abilities by continuing to mistreat them. If we listen to our bodies, try to discern what they’re trying to tell us and act on that, then healing is much easier to attain.
Now that I’m done ranting, back to Betsy’s AV Canal defect repair. Her regular cardiologist is located in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which is a bit of a trip for us, probably about ninety minutes in good traffic. However, the hospital there doesn’t have the surgery team to handle what Betsy’s heart required, meaning our hospital choices for her procedure were Vanderbilt in Nashville or Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta. Nashville is like four hours from us, so that’s a hard pass. Atlanta, on the other hand, is about the same distance from us that Chattanooga is, and we really could have been doing all her medical care there all along, I just didn’t want to because it’s Atlanta. Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, or CHOA, was the obvious choice. As soon as I started telling friends and family that Betsy’s surgery was going to be there, I was getting encouragement about what a wonderful facility it is, and how she’d be getting the best care. This definitely helped ease my apprehension.
We had to spend the day before her surgery doing super fun pre-op activities, for which we had to show up at 7:00 a.m. I am absolutely a night owl, so this sounded like torture for me. Given all the things I had to get done to get ready for the hospital trip, I ended up getting maaaybe two or three hours of sleep before we hit the road. I was sooo grateful that my mom did the driving! They had told me to expect a long day, and they weren’t kidding. This included x-rays, blood work, an echocardiogram, and of course lots of paperwork and answering the same questions at each stop. Betsy handled it better than I probably would have. We arranged in advance for my mom and me to stay at the nearby Ronald McDonald House while Betsy was in the Cardiac ICU, and they were kind enough to let us bring Betsy there the night before, so we wouldn’t have to go all the way home and come back to Atlanta the next day. That was the best possible thing, because for surgery we had to be there at SIX A.M. (I feel exhausted just thinking about it). I can’t say enough good things about the Ronald McDonald House…so I won’t even try at this point. That may be a topic for a later post. I will say that if you’re looking for a charity to donate to, RMHC is a good choice.
Cue another night of very little sleep, thanks to preparations that had to be done, our early arrival time, having to get up in the middle of the night to use the breast pump, and oh yeah, a kiddo who clearly thinks sleep is for chumps.
So the day of the surgery seems like a hazy dream at this point, and it actually kinda did then, too. The operation took several hours of course, and we were getting text updates and phone calls every hour. The family waiting area was right next to the library and art center—two things I had not seen in a hospital before. I loved seeing this, since I feel expressing creativity is a healing action in itself. The whole campus is covered in art done by patients and even staff, including some pieces on display that are still in progress. Since I couldn’t really catch up on sleep sitting in a hard waiting room chair while being anxious and also getting regular phone calls and texts (not to mention sending text updates to practically everyone I know, myself), I took a hint from the library and actually pulled out my Kindle and started reading a new book, something I haven’t done in an embarrassingly long time. It’s probably no surprise that I haven’t picked that book back up since, even though it was an intriguing read.
Surgery was successful. We had to wait awhile for her to get settled in the Cardiac ICU before we were allowed to go see her. I won’t post any pictures from the day of, as it’s a little unsettling to see her covered in alllll those tubes and wires. One of my first thoughts was ‘woah, that’s going to be a killer scar.’ However, just like with her first surgery, she began recovering quickly and didn’t need to keep all that equipment for long.
Now there were complications with some damaged lymphatic vessels, which became obvious from the contents of her chest tube. For that reason, she had to be put on a fat-free formula and couldn’t have breast milk unless it was skimmed first and then combined with that special formula. Yep, you read that right, skim milk even comes in human variety. (Keep your eyes peeled for a guest post from my husband, Ian. He actually bought a centrifuge machine so we could skim my breast milk at home, and he took it upon himself to do the skimming. In the near future he will be writing a post all about the process. Subscribe so you don’t miss it!) This meant she would have to go fat free for six weeks before resuming her normal diet.
Even with all that going on, she was still doing well enough that she got moved to the Cardiac Acute Care Unit (CACU) after two days, and I was able to leave Ronald McDonald House and stay in the room with her. This was on Mother’s Day, so that was a nice little present in itself, as were visits from my mother, my elder daughter Miranda, my in-laws, and my sister and nephew. Also of note, this was the first day Betsy gave us a few little smiles, and she started shaking her head back and forth, which is a thing she does when she’s happy. I want to say she was kicking again by then as well, but she was probably doing that even in the ICU. She has always looooved kicking her legs (she’d even kick things off my belly when I was pregnant), and she especially loves throwing both legs down together at the same time in this crazy body slam move. So all those were definite signs that she was well on the healing track.
One of my favorite things about both the CICU and CACU was the book carts. Each unit kept a book cart by the main entrance, mostly filled with board books. You could borrow as many as you like, and they had a great selection of titles, even a few of our favorites we have at home. I liked that especially, since it was comforting to have something she was familiar with. This could save you a walk down to the library. I also loved the snack carts. There was an organization that donated all kinds of snacks and drinks for the families of patients, and they kept it quite well-stocked. They even kept things like yogurt and string cheese in the fridge, and you could just go grab whatever you wanted anytime you needed a little pick-me-up. Little things like these went a long way to bring more comfort and ease to Betsy and myself during her stay at CHOA.
We were originally told to expect a hospital stay of seven to ten days, perhaps even as long as two weeks. With the combination of the excellent care given by her doctors and nurses, as well as her own stubborn determination to heal, and not to mention the prayers, love, and healing thoughts sent from others on her behalf, Betsy was released from the hospital on day six. As eager as we were to get back home, it was almost sad leaving. Almost. The environment of this hospital is one that regular hospitals would do well to emulate. The colorful walls and floors, the artwork everywhere, even things like the arcade-style basketball games outside the cafeteria promote an overall atmosphere of fun, creativity, and ultimately hope and healing. If Betsy ever has to be hospitalized again, this is no doubt where we’ll bring her. In fact, she did have to come back for a two-day stay a few weeks ago, due to an issue with her incision, and it was also a pleasant experience. I’m super grateful for CHOA and all the people there who took great care of Betsy (and also me, to an extent) and helped make it a hospital I don’t hate, and will even recommend.
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