Atmosphere: Walking on Sunshine Away From the Hospital

     I faced my son’s surgical procedure yesterday with a great deal of trepidation. No one looks forward to surgery with a warm and happy feeling inside. I dreaded my son’s procedure even though I knew it had to be done. When my son pressed me about what would happen at the hospital, I simply said that he would go to sleep, and when he woke up he would be all better . What do you say to a 6 year old that won't strike         terror into his small heart?


     We arrived at the hospital and I was amazed to discover a friendly, smiling man eager to take my keys and park my car for me. Free valet parking made me feel like the Queen of England and gave me one less thing to worry about. We walked into the friendliest hospital lobby I have ever encountered free of sick depressed people and harassed staff. We took the elevator to the second floor to where outpatient surgery was located.
A cheery nurse greeted us and told my son she would be taking care of him. Instead of the dreary white or blah blue hospital gown, my son was outfitted with a little peach number dotted with teddy bears and tan slipper socks. Even though I packed a bag of my son’s favorite toys, he was more interested in the coloring pages and crayons the nurse gave him and quickly set to work carefully coloring each picture. Is this the same kid who before kindergarten needed to be bribed to color?? As soon as the pictures were colored and his name had carefully been written on each, he began exploring the buttons on the bed. Up went the top of the bed, down went the foot of the bed amid fits of giggles.


Before long the anesthesiologist arrived. He asked my son if he liked bubble gum. Does a bear $hit in the woods?? I seen my son’s face light up when he explained all he would have to do is inhale bubblegum vapors and then drift off to sleep. I have had my share of surgeries, but no one ever offered me a mask with the tantalizing aroma of bubble gum to inhale making me fall asleep. How cool! Before long the time had come for my son to leave me and go to surgery. I braced myself for the inevitable. Whenever I had surgery, some big, burly guy came and whisked me away bed and all. So it was with happy surprise that I discovered my little boy would be carried to surgery in a little red wagon! He got in, and away he went.

     Instead of returning to the room on a gurney, my baby was carried in and placed gently into his bed. There is nothing more heart wrenching than seeing your child cry in pain. I asked the nurse if I could hold him, and she encouraged me to climb in bed with him. I wasted no time, and soothed my little boy the best I could. With the magic of pain medication, green Jell-O, and sips of Sprite, his tears slowly dried and he focused on cartoons.

      The hospital could have been a scary place. What we discovered was a cheerful and almost fun atmosphere filled with kind caring people who were dedicated to making my son as comfortable in his surroundings as he possibly could be. They took the fear factor out. When the pain kicked in, they were there immediately with pain medications. When my son was crying, they encouraged me to hold him, and when it was time to go home, they had my trusty blazer waiting at the front door when we came downstairs. Instead of doom and gloom, we were walking on sunshine because everything had went well. A big thank you to everyone at Memorial Hospital who made my son’s time there as pleasant of an experience as possible. Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

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