Lack of funds for hospitals, ineffective communication, waiting lists, bad experiences and the list goes on.
There is an interesting idea that you may not have heard.
If a person has a good experience, they tell three people; if they have a bad one, they tell 15.
Think about a below-par meal at a restaurant that gave you food poisoning or a car wash that scratched your vehicle.
It’s a no-brainer really. Of course, you are going to moan. You are annoyed and you want someone to validate your opinion.
Your first response when someone does their job well isn’t to shout it from the rooftops. I am going to buck the trend.
As someone who loves observing other people and watching reactions and behaviours, being bedside at Whanganui Hospital for the last couple of weeks has been an extra helping of subject matter. And a great big serving of gratitude.
Gratitude for the incredible mahi that is done on a daily basis by the doctors, nurses, orderlies, cleaning staff, service men and women who look after our hospital, administration staff, MedLab workers and anyone else that I have forgotten.
Everybody’s need is urgent when they are in hospital, be that the patient themselves or the family members.
Everybody is on an emotional knife-edge teetering perilously close to madness.
As well as offering care, the staff have to be social workers, counsellors, grief specialists, mind readers, comedians and many other things that certainly wasn’t part of the job description.
It would be a cold day in hell when you hear one of these professionals say “that’s not my job”, because everything seems to be.
The actual concept of spending a great deal of time in a hospital room with random strangers while they are vulnerable is really unusual.
You have never met them yet here they are in their pyjamas and you inadvertently have details about their bowel motions, you know what it’s like to sleep next to them which is ordinarily reserved for those closest to them, you know about various damaged body parts that don’t work and lets not forget that you now have a front row seat to all of the family characters and dynamics.
It’s like a reality TV show with smell. The curtains around the bed remind me of camping.
People think that as soon as they step into a tent that nobody can hear them.
If you have ever tried to sleep next to an amorous couple in a tent on a camping trip, you will know what I mean.
Add the fact that you can’t rely on sight and your ears are in overdrive. You. Hear. Everything.
Every four-bed room takes on its own energy depending on who is in there.
Temporary friendships develop, information is shared and a bond is formed and then they leave and another one is wheeled in.
The energy changes, there is a new story to hear and more relatives to meet.
The hernia becomes a thing of the past as the room welcomes a burst appendix with possible cellulitis.
The patients aren’t the only vulnerable people in hospitals. Everybody is laid bare when a family member is very ill and all are worried.
Some handle it well and others not so well. Some vent, some bottle, some pace, some sit in silence and then there are people like me who are habitual gap-fillers when it comes to air, so there will always be noise.
Yes, I am that annoying one that the patients in the other beds wish would shut up.
So do my family, but they are stuck with me. Sorry to everyone for my condition. I have verbal diarrhoea. It’s terminal.
But in all of this melee, there are the nurses. Ever-present answering calls from patients throughout the ward. A button is pushed, they come.
If help is required, they are bedside. If a family member is frustrated, they calm them down and explain.
Nobody cares if they have issues or if they are tired because other people’s needs are more important.
They are amazing, and I think they all deserve a sainthood.
Life gets put in perspective when you spend time in hospital.
Nothing cemented this more for me than the body of a patient being wheeled out as I went through the indoor.
Maya Angelou wrote: “As a nurse, we have the opportunity to heal the heart, mind, soul, and body of our patients, their families and ourselves.
“They may forget your name, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”
Thank you Whanganui Hospital staff. What you do matters.
