Tuesday, Tuesday

Tuesday, Tuesday

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

2:22 PM

 

To get a day ahead, with help from the Mamas and Papas, I’ve been singing,

Tuesday, Tuesday

So good to me

Come Wednesday, Wednesday

Goin’ home

To be healthy and happy.

[admittedly lame and corny]

 

This afternoon, confirmation that I will be leaving the hospital tomorrow. Arrangements have been made for oxygen at home, including a portable tank to get me there.

 

While I have been very ill and my lungs were in the worst shape ever, I have had the high beams of good fortune shining on me. I came into the ER last Tuesday on one of the quieter days they have had had in some time, which meant I was admitted and looked after very quickly. Being diagnosed with parainfluenza and pneumonia put me in isolation, which gave me a room of my own with a bathroom; a rarity in this overcrowded hospital. I have been in air conditioning through one of the longest and hottest heat waves in PEI history. I have been looked after by professionals who do their best to care for me while they are short-staffed and under-resourced. My partner, Mary, has been looking after me so well and lovingly while we navigate these unknowns. And you, my good friends, have sent such generous positivity, it has been uplifting, inspiring, and damn funny by times.

 

Yesterday, Nurse Amy said they’d have my bed filled before I was in the lobby on my way out the door. This afternoon, she told me she already knew who was going in to this room. I am more than happy to clear out for someone more deserving.

 

This will be my last dispatch from Room 814 in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Charlottetown. Tomorrow, I’ll be busy packing up, moving out, and settling back into a home routine.

 

Some departing observations for what it’s worth:

 

• I’m johnny-shirt challenged. Men, generally speaking, through their lives almost never tie up clothing behind their backs or necks. Every time I change into a fresh johnny-shirt, it’s a new adventure in tying a bow backwards and it never works the first time.

 

• I have had this reaffirmed over and over and over this week. If you give respect, you get some back. If you’re nice and try to understand what the caregiver in front of you is going through, they give it back and then some. Ask and then listen to their story. It doesn’t cost anything to show respect and to be nice. What comes back to you is often surprising.

 

• I know I come from a place of privilege. There are many in this hospital who have come from difficult, dysfunctional homes with addictions and violence and poverty. They come into this place because they’re ill and they are given care, food, attention, and support. They like it here and they feel safe. They don’t want to leave and will begin inventing symptoms they hope will keep them here. The hospital can’t help them once they’ve been declared well enough to leave and there isn’t much out there to help them once they’re back in their home environment.

 

• This past week, I also learned about code colours. I knew Code Blue means cardiac arrest or medical emergency for adults and Code Pink is the same for children. What I didn’t know was what Code White stood for. It means there is a violent situation or a patient is exhibiting difficult behavior. I heard more Code White announcements than Code Blue over the past eight days. On a couple of days two Code Whites were announced over the PA system. This is terrible and terrifying for staff and yet they handle it with equanimity and professionalism.

 

• I am so impressed with the staff who have been working for almost two and a half years through COVID, with no end in sight. Many have been sick themselves. Yet they come to work, sometimes just barely having recovered from illness, and do their jobs with dedicated professionalism. They do their work with humanity, giving each and every patient the care and attention they need. They also work brutal shifts. Many work 12 hour shifts for three days in a row. And with the staff shortages, more are working “a double” or 16 straight hours. Some go to work not knowing if there will be enough staff coming in to fill the shift. But they still show up.

 

• Frontline nursing is for young people. Long hours, being constantly in motion, believing in your calling, and still having dreams definitely favours the young.

 

• How an individual knocks before entering your room tells you a lot about their personality.

 

Thank you for being a part of my journey. I knew there could be risks in putting it all out there, but I have not regretted it. I have renewed friendships, extended acquaintances into friendships, and discovered there is much generosity. You have proven the positivity of humanity.

 

Merci beaucoup - 谢谢 - ありがとう - Muchos gracias - شكرًا - Cảm ơn - धन्यवाद - Спасибі - Asante