I laughed the first time I heard the word "Hospitel" from my best friend when she visited me at Asian Medical Hospital. Who could blame her? The place made you feel like you're staying in a hotel rather than a hospital. I would actually consider myself on a vacation during my stay there if I wasn't ill.
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| Playing with the camera due to boredom |
Thirty minutes later in the extremely freezing sleeping room, I felt a sudden sharp pain on the side of my stomach. At first I thought it was because I was just cold and that my shivering might have caused the pain. I sat up and that's when the pain sent me curling down. I tried standing up, but the sharp needle-like sensation at the side of my stomach made it difficult for me to stay up, and even walk.
I made my way to the bathroom, thinking it was another bad episode of Urinary Tract Infection, and that maybe urinating might help get rid of it. It didn't, so i immediately thought of heading to the clinic. I was so thankful that I was already on the second floor 'coz I wasn't sure if I could make it there.
The nurse on duty made me take pain killers and I requested to lie down, since I could barely stand up. The same time, my boss was already looking for me. Five minutes later I heard a voice at the door asking for my name, and the nurse informed my boss and co-worker of my condition. My boss told me that after I'm done resting, he would need to see me down the operation area to talk to me. At that time I was still trying to fight the pain, but the only thing that was going through my head is that, I know work is important but in my current condition he seriously expects me to walk out of the clinic without any complications?
Another five minutes and the pain killers wasn't working. I asked the nurse how long it would take before it takes effect. He looked concerned so he suggested that I'd be sent to the hospital. It was already 1:00 AM, there was no way my brother could pick me up. There was also no way for him to take me home in my condition, so I had no choice. The hospital was my only option.
Since it was difficult for me to walk, the nurse told me that he would take me downstairs on a wheelchair. A rational person would think that makes perfect sense but I was all like "say what?". A picture of myself being paraded in that contraption swiftly crossed my mind and I could feel my face burning up with embarrassment, but I had no choice right? I wasn't a rational person, I consider myself immature and a little weird, so my hesitation to the situation was pretty predictable. It was a good thing that the nurse was friendly, I actually asked him if he could also provide a paper bag to put over my head, 'coz rolling on wheelchair at work wasn't exactly a picture of glamour (no offense to those who actually use wheelchairs to get around, I have nothing against you).Anyway, as if that wasn't bad enough, when we got downstairs there was an ambulance with those big red and blue lights flashing by the entrance and I was like "OMFG!". These people aren't familiar with the word subtle. And to add more to the already humiliating situation they put me on a stretcher! I wasn't shot or stabbed, I had a stomach pain and a stretcher wasn't really necessary, but again...I had no choice.
I pretended that the flashing lights from the ambulance was a group of paparazzi as I was pulled out of the building for everyone to see. I pretended to be like Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan being arrested for drug abuse, that seemed more interesting, but for the record I don't like them.
Before we left, the medic examined me and asked me series of questions. It took a good five minutes. My boss accompanied me to the hospital, (so thanks boss!). He was sitting at the front while the medic continued to interview me. At first I thought it was still part of some medical-related stuff but then he asked for my number and I was like "oh..." Unfortunately I was stupid enough to give it to him 'coz I was thinking, "you'll never know when there's an emergency and you need an ambulance." it was a dumb thought, but then again we don't really have emergency numbers like 911 so I thought it was a good idea to be "friends" with someone like that.
So moving on, we arrived at the hospital and they took me to this room that says Urgent Care. It was basically the Emergency Room. I was there for several hours and three doctors attended to me. The first one I wasn't sure what she does, but the second and third was a surgeon and an OB Gynecologist, respectively. Not sure if I got the third one right though.
I was under observation the whole time and they hooked me up on what they call an IV? They did some blood and urine tests. They told me theories of what could be wrong with me, and my boss left shortly after they told us what they're going to do.
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| Hospital suite window |
It took about approximately 16 hours before I got a room, and from the moment I was in Urgent Care they instructed me not to take any food or water, so I felt half-dead before they got me to my "suite". After an hour, my best friend came and she had a look around and she was like "wow, is this a hospital or a hotel?" Then she started checking out the bathroom and the view of the city (which was gorgeous at night). Then she finally said " this is not a hospital, it's a hospitel. A hospital and a hotel". I would have cracked up if I wasn't so weak from food and liquid deprivation.
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| The closet with the fridge. |
The doctor said I had to stop eating after 12 midnight. I thought it was pretty reasonable at first. My other best friend stayed over to watch over me that night (thanks girl!) and when I woke up the nurse came in and my girl left for work. The nurse told me I still couldn't eat but they kept bringing in food so I just stuffed them in the fridge.
I actually stopped eating at 8:00 PM so I was pretty hungry when I woke up. It was tolerable of course, I did have my fair share of fasting way back, but then after lunch I was not feeling too cool about it. By that time it was already 16 hours since my last meal and I was getting a little grouchy. The doctor did another rebound test and the pain was worse this time so he told me I was getting surgery so he could take a peek at my appendix (did I spell that right?). I was scheduled to go to the operating room after an hour or two so I called up my brother to let my mom and my grandma know my situation, but they didn't get there in time.
I was already taken to the waiting room for surgery and it felt kind of weird and cool at the same time. When they were taking me there I was seeing the ceiling the same way a patient would see it in the movies, except for my scenario there was no crying relative telling me to be strong or not to die and just hold on. It made me feel a bit lonely, but that's the story of my life, something I have to put up with every day. Anyway, I was imagining doctors rushing over me speaking medical jargon just to make the whole situation enjoyable. After all, I was gonna get cut up--something I would not include in my fantasies. But the laughs and mindless rants of the nurses who were pushing my bed broke my thoughts. They were goofing off, which basically ruined the atmosphere for me.
It was cold in the waiting room, and without food and water I was feeling really weak. In fact I was having difficulty staying awake. If it wasn't for the constant rambling on the other side of the curtain (I wasn't the only patient there) I would've dozed off. Then of course, there was the problem with the IV. It made me feel the need to urinate every 10 minutes--sometimes shorter. It was a bit hellish having all those feelings mixed up, and what's worse was that I hated using a bedpan. It was weird and gross. It felt worse than a peeing in a public bathroom.
Anyway, when I got to the operating room everything about the procedure was already explained to me. They strapped stuff on me, hooked me up with oxygen and all that and it was really uncomfortable. They had to unstrap me again though because they needed to numb the bottom half of my body, but I never knew how that happened. They just told me to lie on my side and I suddenly blacked out.
I woke up with someone saying "it's done, clean her up". My tummy felt like it was being rubbed with something cold and my hands were shaking violently. I was saying something to them that I couldn't remember but I basically felt like I was either stoned or really drunk. I woke up in the recovery room after that.
My legs were still numb and they felt like rolled up rug when I touched them. Being half a vegetable is scary. I still couldn't eat so I was pretty weakened by the whole thing. I couldn't breathe even with the oxygen and my cut really hurt. They already injected me with pain killers thrice but the pain was still there. I was starting to think that I was immune to them.
They took me back to my room around 8:00 PM. That time I had fully regained control of my legs. My grandmother and brother was already there but I felt so weak, hungry and pained that I couldn't really pay attention to anything. It took about 36 hours before they let me eat, so imagine how that's like.
The rest of my stay there pretty much involved either pain or more pain so I'm not going to get into detail, I think you get the picture already. But the hospital was great. The nurses there were extremely accommodating and friendly and the room was comforting. If it wasn't for the regular checkups from the nurse you'd actually think you're staying there for vacation. If I get sick again--hopefully not of course--I wouldn't mind being admitted to that hospital, 'coz on my last day before I left, the staff gave me a rose with a get well card. That's what I call good treatment.
^_^
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