Tuesday afternoon, my sister-in-law waited patiently for the
phone call informing her of the time of her surgery on Wednesday. The call came through about 4:30PM and
before the information could be shared, the call was disconnected. We should have realized then and there that
this was an omen of the disheveled experience that awaited us. She called back and after getting several
busy signals, she was finally able to get through to a live person only to be
told she didn’t need to be at the Ambulatory Surgical Unit until 12N.
Nothing to eat or drink after 12midnight and therefore
absolutely no coffee in the morning! Not what she wanted to hear. We rented a movie on TV in an effort to stay
awake as late as possible in order to sleep as late as possible in order to make
the morning seem a bit shorter and less painful. We
rent a movie entitled something like Finding
a Friend for the End of the World. I
thought it was a comedy and I remembered hearing somewhere along the line that
it was pretty good. Well I was wrong,
very wrong. This was an incredibly bad choice
for the “night before surgery”. At the end of the movie, this guy and girl who
have finally found each other are laying in bed together speaking of their true
love when the dreaded massive meteor smashes into earth and disintegrates them.
We’re
left with this lovely sentiment as we try to fall off to sleep.
Eventually morning arrives and I go out to fill up the car
with gas and get a bagel and coffee so Ellen doesn’t have to smell the coffee
or see me eat. I don’t want to be
fasting – I’m prone to low blood sugar symptoms which would be of no help to Ellen. I
want to be in tip top shape as I know it might be a long day. I had
no idea!
We wait for the clock to reach 11:25 and then leave for this
major Medical Center that is basically only a few blocks away. I park in the lot next to the hospital for
convenience’s sake and figure they’ll stamp my parking stub in the Ambulatory
Surgery Unit. It only makes sense that they would provide free
parking for surgical patients. Well, once again I was wrong. It costs $3 for the first hour and $2 for the
next hour. No, I’m told, they don’t stamp your ticket –
the hospital has nothing to do with the parking lot – and they do not have any
parking lots that they operate.
We locate the Ambulatory Surgical Unit on the second floor,
A Building. We see a rather messy, little room crowded with
desks thrown in a disorganized fashion around the tiny space. Standing
and sitting amidst the desks are several individuals dressed in blue scrub
suits. One tall, thin woman sitting at a
computer at one of the desks gives one last suck and then pulls the tootsie
roll pop out of her mouth as she turns around to look over her shoulder to see
who standing in the doorway. I think
to myself this can’t be the office for a Major Medical Center’s Ambulatory
Surgery Unit. We must be at the wrong place - it honestly
looks like some sort of storage room in a factory. Finally another lady in a blue suit who is
wearing a laminated card that identifies her as an RN acknowledges us and tells
us that her name is Madeline. She asks
us why we are there and when we tell her that Ellen is having surgery and was
told to be here at 12noon she tells Ellen to take the seat next to her desk and
starts asking her some basic questions.
When she realizes that I am still standing there she says that I can
take a seat out in the hallway. I say I’d
rather stay with Ellen and she asks Ellen if that is OK and after Ellen says
yes, I’m allowed to stand by her side. An
underling in a blue suit comes along with the rolling Blood Pressure machine
and thermometer and after the vital signs are documented and the basic data is
collected Ellen is taken in the back to have blood drawn and to put on the
hospital gown. In a matter of minutes, by
about 12:15 PM, Ellen is back out in the hallway with me and the waiting game
begins. Oh I forgot to mention,
Madeline, the RN, had bad news and good news.
First, she informed us that Ellen’s surgery wasn’t scheduled until 2PM and
that it “routine procedure” to have patients arrive 2 hours ahead of time –meaning
we had close to a two hour wait. Then Ms.
Madeline, RN, gives us the good news
that probably Ellen won’t have to wait until 2PM to go into the OR since the patient scheduled for the time spot before
Ellen was taken into surgery earlier than anticipated. Apparently this patient’s surgical procedure
was expected to be lengthy and for that reason was brought into surgery
early.
Just around that time, we are pleasantly surprised to see
Ellen’s sister and brother-in-law walking towards us. They had decided to make the 3 hour trip
from upstate New York to see Ellen before she went into surgery and to be there
with us. We sit and wait until 1PM and
then I decide to move the car from the costly non-hospital-affiliated parking
lot to look for a free spot somewhere in the vicinity surrounding the Medical
Center. I know that Ellen is in good
hands with her sister and brother-in-law at her side and I kiss Ellen and tell
her I hope she will have been called into surgery by the time I get back
upstairs. I go to the car but decide
that I will leave well enough alone since the maximum fee for parking all day
is $8 and I already owe $5.
When I get back from my excursion to the parking lot and off
the elevators on the second floor, Ellen’s sister greets me with this news,
i.e., five minutes after I left, Ellen was called to a place known as the Holding Room. We are
all relieved that that the anxiety of this waiting time is over. Finally, Ellen can get this surgery over and done
with. Oh my where we ever wrong this time! ...to be continued
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