Dear Doctor

Spending time in a hospital sucks. Unless you’re there for the birth of a child (assuming it isn’t the spawn of Satan), it’s never pleasant. You sit on a chair or stand against a wall, staring wordlessly at the patient you’re visiting, hoping that somehow, some way, a miracle happens, getting rid of all the ailments he/she is suffering from. That’s never the case.

It’s a lot of waiting. Waiting to check in. Waiting for their condition to stabilize. Waiting for results of a test. Waiting for doctors to arrive. Waiting for their verdict. Waiting to see if the medication works. Waiting to find out if the patient is ready to go home. The worst part about it? There’s nothing you can do about it. Everything is out of your hands.

It’s like playing the lottery. You just pay money and hope for the best. That’s the thing about humans. No human is alike. Not everybody works according to the text-book. There’s no manual for each person. Some people respond differently. Some people show different symptoms. There’s a million different variables determining what the issue and solution is.

We’re not computers. Two beeps during POST – RAM error. Try reseating it or replacing the RAM sticks. Mouse not working? Try plugging it in again, or changing the battery. There are limited outcomes when it comes to machines, which makes troubleshooting easy.

I’d like to believe that doctors are always trying their best to solve the situation. That everything they do is beneficial to their patients, and that they’d like to get them discharged as soon as possible. And that it’s not some scheme to make money for the hospital by keeping them in their bed for as long as they can.

Dear doctor, I know you won’t be reading this post, but I trust you and your abilities to do what’s best for her. Because, let’s face it – I know shit about what’s going on, only that it hurts and it’s life-threatening. Despite the nagging I get from time to time, I’d rather have her home than wasting away in a hospital bed. She’s the strongest woman I know and wouldn’t be there if she had a choice, but this time, things are out of her hands.

I don’t think I’m ready to lose her yet. I doubt I’ll ever be ready.

I hope I’ll be able to bring her home soon.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *