Time for another installment of this Wednesday/Sunday night series!
Picking up from last time –
In addition to the kind and patient surgeons, the nurses also spoke with us.
They made it overly extremely clear – if you ever change you mind, for any reason, at literally any point – even if you’re in the hospital prepped for surgery – it is not to late to back out.
Okay, I get it. I can wuss out at any time. But I’m good. (They really hammered that home (really, really, really hammered it hard). I guess that’s nice of them to try to be so unbelievably sure that people don’t feel pressured in any way…)
One person in our talk was smart enough to record the whole talk on his phone so that once he got home, if he forgot something, he could listen… I took copious notes. So, I feel good that I got everything. But, if your center allows it, recording the big lecture might not be a bad idea so that you can always go back to it.
After the talk, we got to have one-on-one meetings with everyone involved. This is where it all started to go south…
I haven’t had many experiences with social workers in my life. The last (and only) time I can remember dealing with a social worker was at Mass General during all my heart stuff. *Beautiful harp memory/dreamy transition music plays.*
Everyone at Mass General was so wonderful, sweet, special, kind, amazing, fantastic… there are not enough adjectives to describe their awesomeness! Impossible!
At Mass General, the lovely, beautiful, patient social worker (and everyone else involved in my case) was all about helping me. I was the patient. All patients deal with health and surgery differently. And she just wanted to make sure that I was very well taken care of – in the way that was right for me.
Now, if you’ve read my series of posts about my time in the hospital as a heart patient, you know that I did not want people up my butt all the time! What is fun about that? You’re sick. You’re tired. You’re not looking great. You’re already surrounded by 80 million other people.
As I’ve said on this blog before, being at home can be lonely. But for me, being in the hospital is not lonely. And I don’t love tons of people visiting me there.
(Even if a select few friends – whom I greatly appreciated – knew exactly how to treat me, what days/times were right to come, and exactly how to handle me… It doesn’t mean I want anyone on the actual day of surgery. And it doesn’t mean I want the cavalcade.)
At Mass Gen, they were all about accommodating me. When my family started threatening to come visit, the social worker was all, “Don’t worry! We’re happy to make a no visitors order for you, and people won’t be allowed in your room. Whatever you need.”
When I said I didn’t live with anyone and would be going home to my empty apartment, the social worker and nurses were all, “Hmm. We could get a home nurse to check in on you… You know what, though? You’re young and strong. You’ll be fine.”
They had complete faith I could take care of myself.
And I was! Heck, I went to the studio at school the very night I got out of the hospital to work on a project – that I got an A on, by the way!
So, Mass General was all about me. Wexner Medical Center? Not so much. Let’s talk about that on Sunday.