stanley is home
It’s amazing—last night I thought he needed another day in the hospital. This afternoon, after we were told he could go home if he wanted to, I was wild to get him out of there.
Stanley is mending well. He’s a bit anemic, and his blood pressure tends to the low side, but otherwise, he’s in damned good health. I listened to his heartbeat today and it sounded strong and loud and NORMAL. PA Bill said he could stay another night if Stanley wanted to, but that there was nothing they could do for him that he couldn’t get from me at home. The creatures are so happy he’s back.
There are a lot of things we have to do: followups, getting bloodwork done so his cardiologist can monitor his warfarin. I filled four prescriptions today (if you don’t have a prescription plan and are old enough to join AARP and get its prescription card—do it. Saved us the cost of the card on the Zocor alone) and I went grocery shopping for dinner for the next couple of days.
Pretty much everyone whom we encountered at Bridgeport Hospital was very nice to us. I had some problems with the quality of the nursing care on the surgical unit, such as having to wait 90 minutes for Stanley to get pain meds—I had to go track down the nurse to get them, twice. And the tube in his neck was in there 36 hours longer than it should have been. I would have liked to have met Stanley’s case manager before discharge day and I wish I didn’t have to ask to see the dietician. I wish I didn’t have to be the one to explain to Stanley that he had to ask for pain meds—this should have been done by the nurse. I didn’t like having to ask that they weigh him—it should have been happening every day. I didn’t like not being able to read his chart. But, several of the nurses and nurses aides were wonderful. Kristen was great, and Eva was fantastic. Joel was kind and gentle, and Ronan, from the SICU, was really good (though he should pay more attention to signs of pain). We met so many staff ... most were great. But boy, anyone going into the hospital needs an advocate or someone keeping track of what’s going on.
The other thing that really bothered me is the quality of the food. All I can figure out is that the menu is designed to ensure repeat business. My standard is the cafeteria at the University of Michigan Medical Center, where they were proud of their heart healthy menu of stuff that actually tastes great. Word of advice: if you’re eating at Bridgeport Hospital, stick with the chicken salad sandwiches because they’re pretty good. Get a sandwich at lunchtime or in the coffee shop and save it for dinner, because dinner at that place is over-cooked, over-fat, steam-table slop.
But all in all, I’m so happy that things went so well. Now if we can just get through the next couple of weeks ... trying to get through to Stanley’s cardiologist today is a tale for tomorrow—suffice to say it left me crying in frustration. A cardiology practice, or any practice, for that matter, should not have a dipshit answering the phones for them. They should also have a voicemail system that actually works.
But Stanley is home! And his heart sounds so wonderful! And I am so tired ...
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