Being a patient in the hospital means, at least in some cases, sharing your room with someone you've never met before. And the only criteria I can come up with is that they do try to make sure you are in the room with the same gender...most of my roommates were 20+ years older than me!
And you have to appreciate the constraints that HIPPA has put upon hospitals, with having to ensure medical privacy to patients. So, we have the “curtain” OF SILENCE—put it between the 2 beds and it does nothing to protect the other patient's privacy! I guess we're supposed to feel more private. Actually, “ObamaCare” does more for a patient's privacy by requiring every patient a certain amount of square footage—and this meant at this hospital, some of it is under reconstruction to allow for the requirement—and that many patients will now be in private rooms because of this requirement.
My first roommate was a woman in her 70's. She had suffered 4 strokes in the last couple of years(her sister told me) and I think that's why she was in again. There were many “orders” on her dry erase board so that when staff came in, they could check it, such as, “cannot use straws”...too bad many of the staff didn't actually read the board! I don't mean the nurses or assistants that were on our floor, but the other staff members—physical therapists, occupational therapists, you'd think they'd have those orders in their notes, but I had to tell quite a few that she couldn't do this or that...or I'd just tell them to check the board—the writing was large enough for me to see it from my bed, I'd think they could see it since they were sitting closer! Her daughter would come at night, after work and her sisters would come during the day. She stammered and when she got upset or aggitated, the stammering got worse. On this afternoon, the vampires(aka the labtechs) had come in to either take blood or start a new IV and had really upset the woman. First they were talking above her and not listening to her(they were gossiping about how they were so much better at the job than the nursing staff) and they were hurting her, which in turn made her stammer more, which in turn, made them ignore her more. I finally said, “Can't you understand you're hurting her?” and called the nurse, hoping she would assist or kick them out. She did the latter and found someone else to finish the job. BUT that night, her son came in and was wondering why she was so upset. I told him that it was because of the lab techs aggravting her...he and his girlfriend weren't very happy that I was aware of his mother's health...so he had her moved...with her saying, “nononono”...oh well...
I spent a day or so without anyone else in the room. Then in the evening, another stroke patient was put in with me. She was in her late 80's and a tiny slip of a woman. She was speaking, but would sometimes not be able to recall the word she wanted...although she thought she was saying it right. Her daughter stayed the first night, the next day was Labor Day and she was off work, and she expected one of her relatives to stay the next night...sure. During the day the whole family was there—about 10 of them. The poor woman never got to take a nap or anything. What made it worse was some of these relatives decided she didn't know what they were saying(which she had been answering questions, etc.) or what she was saying...and she got forgotten in the group of people...that night? All of them left, which left her in a very scary spot. She was frightened, crying. The staff finally had one of the assistants sit with her until midnight...the next morning? All she could say was jibberish...I wondered what would have happened if her family had thought about the patient rather than gossiping over her bed.
On that morning, I had my knee surgery—this was where the doctor would find out if I just had a little infection or something really ugly—like MRSA. I was hoping for just a nasty one, rather than ugly. I said good bye to my roommate, because when I got out of surgery, I'd be moving to the ortho ward.
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