What I Learned in the Hospital

I had another first in my life yesterday - The First Time I Ever Stayed at the Hospital. Oh, I've BEEN to the hospital plenty of times. Practically lived there when Mom was sick. Even fainted in one while visiting my father when I was a teenager. I've been there for births, for hysterectomies, for heart procedures...just none of them mine.

I'm a great hospital visitor. I bring good cheer and flowers and trashy magazines. But as a patient? NEVER. My family is one of those "grit your teeth and eventually the pain will stop" Midwestern clans. But when I gritted my teeth for 3 hours yesterday morning (in between the puking up bile sessions) and the pain didn't change at all, I decided I needed to get to the doctor. Who immediately made me go to the ER (conveniently located next door).

I will give the hospital its due and say that I was treated very well. They started me on morphine right away to control the pain and got me into a room within 15 minutes of arrival (I guess my body decided to rebel at a convenient time). I was checked on often, asked if I had anyone to be with me, and generally taken care of. But I had a lot of downtime. A LOT of downtime. To just think. These were some of the things I came up with:

1. People WANT to be there for me

My brother was in Fort Worth and changed his flight to miss a whole day of meetings just to be with me. Even though what was wrong was not even close to life threatening. Even though he's a bigwig who shouldn't be blowing off meetings. But he wanted to be there for me. There was never a question - he just had his assistant change his flight.

My roommate's mother called in the evening, very upset that she hadn't been told I was in the hospital. This is a woman who isn't related to me, but sees me as one of her own. It genuinely upset her that she wasn't given the opportunity to be there for me. That touched me.

And I can't even begin to count all of the Facebook messages I got from wonderful people who were concerned about me. And text messages. And e-mails. These caring, thoughtful people whom I've only seen in person a handful of times were making sure I was OK - even though I know they have tons on their own plates.

I was genuinely overwhelmed at the support I received and am still awed by it.

2. I'm not cut out to be a patient

I know the goal of a hospital is to recuperate. They come in, take fluids, temperatures, blood pressures...that's their job. The rest of the time, you lay around and watch TV and look at the people who are visiting you because there's nothing new to say. I was so intensely bored at the hospital...all I wanted was my laptop. That sounds so petty, I know. But once my pain was managed, I was done. Why take care of the underlying problem when I'm feeling OK and I can just go home and you can give my bed to a SICK PERSON? I guess it's better than the alternative of being in writhing pain and thinking of nothing else. But if I'm going to lay around and do nothing, I'd rather be at a spa.

3. I miss the boyfriend I didn't have

That sounds weird, I know. And for the most part, the ex has been out of my mind and definitely out of my life since the "final conversation" about the cheating scandal. But being in the hospital crystallized to me that I don't currently have a "special someone" to call to take care of me. Who will drop everything and rush over and care for me. But you know what? I didn't have that in the ex, either. If yesterday had happened while we were together, I would have been told (in this order): a) "I'm working and I'll be there when I can, but it might be a late night. Call me later and update me if you don't hear from me." b) "It's getting late and I don't know when I'll be out of here. It'll probably be after visiting hours. I'll call you on my way home to see if you want me to stop by." c) "It's obviously too late for me to stop by, and I don't think I'll be able to get over there before work tomorrow. Call me when you wake up and let me know what the doctor says."

The sad part is, that's really how it would have happened. He was never the guy to drop everything and rush to my side, even when my mother died. It was always what was convenient for him, on his terms. Oh, and he would dispute that. But he also disputed that he had another girlfriend, where he lived when we met, etc. So, I don't think him saying, "I wouldn't have done that!" holds much weight.

I realized that I miss the boyfriend I THOUGHT I had, but never did. And that made me sad, because I always thought he was so much more than he actually was. Realizing how he would have reacted to my hospital stay, versus how I would have WANTED him to react, freed me in some way. I mean, I've been free of him for quite a while now. But that shadow of what I thought I was missing is gone, because what I missed was never really there. And I deserve the man in my life to act the same way my brother did - drop everything and get there as fast as he can. Because that's what I would do for my guy.

I told you I had a lot of time to think! This isn't all about the ex - just being in that situation helped show me what I'm worth to people. And to myself. And it's a lot. So I won't be selling myself short anymore.

Oh, and the medical stuff is better. Antibiotics and pain meds took care of it, although I may need surgery in the future. And DEFINITELY if it makes it so I never feel that level of pain ever again!