This week's column is a little thin due to the fact that I spent two of the days as an inpatient at Chester County Hospital. An otherwise minor hand wound got infected and the bacteria decided to have a fun run up through my right arm, leaving a path of hot, red, angry-looking swelling in their wake.
Per my doctor's no-nonsense directions, Dearest Partner and I presented ourselves at the Chester County Hospital emergency department. The staff didn't mess around, because it seems that these infections can become limb- and life-threatening within hours. I was admitted and started getting intravenous antibiotics every six hours around the clock until my body gained the upper hand on the cellulitis.
I've spent plenty of days and nights in hospitals over the years caring for loved ones, but prior to this experience I've never been hospitalized myself. To say I was anxious and apprehensive would be putting it mildly.
But everyone was so kind, competent and professional that I was surprised to find myself feeling almost at home. My single room was spacious, comfortable and quiet, there was a good Wi-Fi connection (vital!) and the food (when I was finally allowed to eat) was fine. The staff let me wear my own clothes, welcomed my visitors and were delighted when I walked laps around the floor for exercise. They seemed thrilled every time they noticed signs of improvement: "I can see your knuckles today!" or "You look too healthy to be here!"
And not a single employee -- nurses, aides, nursing assistants, physician's assistants, physicians, the waiter, the cleaners -- left my room without saying something like, "Let me know if there's anything you need. Anything."
A special shout-out to the ER techs Pat and Charlie, who, in the middle of the night, managed to keep us calm and even amused while getting the whole treatment process started.
I cannot imagine a better hospital experience, and I plan to write a letter to the board president telling him so.
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