01/09/13: Messages that I sent to my e-mail from my phone 01/07/13, Part 3: Massachusetts General Hospital
A group of people just walked out of a door across the hallway. The doctor whom I met last night was with them. They all seemed to be in the same age range, men and women. I don’t know if they were all doctors or not; I’m sure that some of them were. She is the prettiest of the women and the most demurely dressed.
The prettiest and, to outward appearances, the most serious…and being given the roughest time? A number of the people were talking; she left the room last, looked away from me, and was the last in the line of them to leave the hallway.
The bathroom is outside a locked door that’s around the corner to my right. I have to be let out by staff to go there. The second that I walked through the door a few minutes ago, a guy made a noise at me. A Wet Floor sign has been put right outside that door since the last time I was there this morning and there’s another one a few feet away from it.
I’ve done nothing to provoke anyone here. I’ve been polite, cooperative, undemanding, patient and appreciative.
I’ve been those things. It’s not as if I don’t know it when I haven’t been those things; I have been them while I’ve been here.
It’s the next shift, and I’ve met another young, female doctor. Also pretty, also serious. She seems to be doing better than the other one was, but I do think that she is more subdued than she would be if the conglomerate hadn’t happened. This is wrong!
I just had an interaction with the first nurse here who has been really rude to me. I asked for more tissues and a bag to put the used ones in, and if it was too soon to get more Tylenol, non-controlled cough syrup which is what I asked for and started getting last night, and a cough drop. I also asked for some more water.
The nurse who was here last night told me to stop apologizing for asking for so much stuff. She said ‘It’s our job.’ I said ‘I wanted you to know that I’m aware.’
There seems to be a security guard here for every shift. I had been going to the nurses’ station and talking to the nurse from outside the door when I had a question; that was how I had done that since I got here. This morning, the guard who was here asked me to go back to
where I had been staying and that she would tell the nurse that I had a request. While I was writing the last message, another nurse walked over here to take my vital signs and I asked her how I should ask to speak to the nurses. She said that the security guards tend to field the requests and to ask the guard to let a nurse know that I have a question is preferable.
I had asked her what the procedure was because I wasn’t sure if the security guard this morning had been overly officious and if the nurse who I felt was rude to me this afternoon had thought that I had expected her to wait on me because I’d asked the guard for this shift to ask a nurse to walk out here and talk to me when she had a minute instead of waiting outside the nurses’ station to talk to her.
When the rude nurse reappeared, she had the cough syrup and no cough drop. She said ‘You don’t have an order for Tylenol, so we’ll have to talk to the doctor about that.’
She brought a cup of water, a box of tissues and a bag for the tissues. I asked her if she wanted to take the empty water cup, empty tissue box and sealed bag of used tissues that were on the chair next to me; the only garbage can I’ve seen is in the nurses’ station. She said ‘No, you can leave it there; when you’re gone we can clean it all up.’
Then she tossed the box of tissues and empty bag that she’d brought with her onto the couch next to me and left to the sound of my saying ‘Please don’t throw things at me next time.’
My throat hurts and I have the beginning of a headache, in addition to feeling what else you feel when you’re sick.
I have lost more hours of sleep than usual every night this week because of my cold. I have been on this couch in hospital pyjamas, with a mask over my face, coughing and trying to sleep, since they put me here last night. It’s the TV room and they told me I could watch TV; I didn’t say ‘Why would I watch TV when it’s so upsetting?’ There’s no door and everyone who walks by in the hallway can see me.
Of course more than one person who works in the hospital has walked through the hallway staring at me. While I’m here, I can’t give myself more privacy than what I’m given. I was sleeping a few minutes ago when a woman who works here walked out of the room that’s across the hallway and loudly said something about ‘chillin” to the woman who was with her. How many times have I written online that the video problem
makes me suicidal, and here I am in the psychiatric evaluation section of the hospital; why does she think I’m here?
(This is a note that I’m writing now; it wasn’t one of the messages. I sent these messages from about 7:30 a.m. Monday morning to about 2:30 p.m. Monday afternoon.).
Copyright L. Kochman, January 9, 2013 @ 2:40 p.m.