But I've spent more time in one this week than I have in the rest of my teenage or adult life. My Nana was admitted to the hospital on Thursday with a feeling like "an elephant was sitting on her chest" which is the text book definition of cardiac chest pain, line for line without prompting. We also knew that her pain meds have not been cutting it lately, and her severe arthritis was getting more and more painful.
And that's still about all we know. Her vitals are all good, Andrew says her numbers are all better than his for heaven sake, so she's not in immediate danger of a heart attack. She's had an x-ray, and she says the doctor says they'd like to do surgery, but none of us have heard that from the doc. She had an ultrasound, we never heard the results, she had a CT scan, again, never heard results. The lack of information is frustrating. She was moved yesterday, when we asked why they said it's easier for physio to work with people in this ward. We saw the physio people once on friday, and not again since. We were apparently waiting on a surgical consult yesterday, but I don't think it ever happened. We're feeling a bit like mushrooms, being kept in the dark and fed shit!
Nana is scared of hospitals, so ever since she was admitted she has not been alone during visiting hours, from 9-9. My mom, dad, Popa, uncle and I have all been taking "shifts" with her. Dad's gonna catch the lion's share this week, since he took the week off. One thing I love about this hospital is that they not only allow doggie visitors, but encourage them! Taffy has really been helping to lift Nana's spirits. And the gardens are just magnificent, Nana has a bird feeder just outside her window like she does here, it gives her something to look at. The nurses have been kind and lovely, and overall it hasn't been a bad experience, we're just wishing for some answers. Maybe there are none to be had?
Gotta go, time for my shift.