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 Ongoing Thoughts Two:

By William E. Steinman:

March 31, 2008:

 

Last week I said I had encountered two interesting people while I was hospitalize. These were in fact fellow patients at Genesys Regional Medical Center. That is our local hospital. While there, I also developed some thoughts about hospital care. I will get to that.

 

First, let me tell you about George. I was put in a room with George on the second day of my stay. I always hate it when I have to share space with someone I don’t know. There are questions in my mind. Is this guy going to have a television blaring all day and night? Is he going to babble at me when I want to rest or read? Is he so ill that he will shit himself and stink up the place? That once happened to me.

 

None of those things happened and I got to know and like George. He was about my age and twice as big as I was. He ate everything in sight and complained that the food did not stay with him. That was true enough and was the fault of the hospital. The stuff they sent up to the rooms was garbage. No matter how much George ate of it, it was not filling or satisfying. That was true for both of us.

 

George had been everywhere and done a great deal. He was in Korea at the same time I was and he did not like it any better than I did. He was gone from home for seventeen months and when he got home, he discovered his wife was pregnant. All he know was, whoever the kid was, it was not his. He said goodbye to that woman and went on with is life. After that, he found a different woman and raised six or seven kids. I never did get clear on how many. To do that, he worked two jobs most of his life.

 

I discovered George could not read when I noticed the floor nurse filling out his daily menu for him. He explained that he had gone to work in the mines when he was about eight years old and never did go to school. That was the good old days in West Virginia when those nice old mine owners exploited children as a matter of routine. Now they will only exploit people who are of legal age. I really don’t see much difference when the exploited worker has no choice of where to work.

 

That as it may be, George could not read.

He said, “When I had kids I was going to make sure they got educated.”

He explained it to me.

He said, “My boys were not too keen on school. I had to leave work one day when I found one was not in school.

“Well, I found him alright. I found him in his buddies parlor. They were laying on the floor with a couple of girls stark naked.

“I handled that alright. I took off my belt and went in there and whopped their asses good and told them to get their red asses back to school.”

“One of the girls said, ‘I’m going to tell my daddy on you.’”

“I said, ‘Go and tell your daddy and when he comes to me, I’ll tell him how I found you.’”

The girl never did tell her daddy but the other boy did.

I suppose he expected his daddy to come over and whip George’s butt. It did not happen.

George said, “He came over, shook my hand, and thanked me for doing what he should have done.”

 

So that was George. He is a good man. My other roommate came after George went home. I never did get his name, but he was a very cheerful man considering his condition. He was stricken with Multiple Sclerosis. That is a chronic degenerative disease of the nervous system. It will ultimately end in death. We keep hoping for a cure, but that is not yet.

 

What shocked me was when we discover his marital status. While the nurses were getting him situate they asked about his wife. He explained that his wife had divorced him when she first discovered he had MS. I was stunned. Mrs. Gaffer was outraged. I have never in my life seen her so outraged. This bimbo took all that a man had to offer in the good times. Then, when the crisis came, she hit the road and left him swinging in the breeze. How awful! How can she live with herself?

 

We all have fear and sometimes suffer from cowardice. We all suffer from that on occasion and we struggle through. Then there is betrayal. That is another situation entirely. I call it abject cowardice. It is not excusable under any conditions.

 

When I was getting ready to go home the next day, this gentleman told me how lucky I was. I have a wife who looks after me no matter what. I plead guilty. I was poop creek lucky. I fell in love with and secured the hand of a true caregiver without a clue as to what I was getting. A true caregiver would never abandon their charge, no matter what. Thank about it. Wars, floods, famines, plagues, and whatever, the caregiver stays through it all. Think Florence Nightingale etc all. Am I lucky? You bet!

 

Now let us discuss George’s complaint about the food. What we got was institution food at its worse. The people who run the kitchens in this place call themselves nutritionists. In my opinion, they should be charged with fraud when the make that claim. They are no more nutritionists than my dog. In fact, he at least has sense enough to eat what’s good for him if he has a choice. The victims of these nutritionists have no choice.

 

These fools sit back and pretend they are providing good nutrition when all they do is provide empty calories. That is a fact. Their menu offers a range of choices, but none of them is stand out nutritious and none of it has good flavor. For example, they buy the very cheapest things called hamburger patties. In an attempt to give them some flavor, the outfits who make these things add a lot of sugar, then they lace them with sodium. That does not do much for the flavor, but it makes them almost deadly from a nutritional standpoint. The hospital buys these by the hundreds in huge packages. Yes, I have seen where they shop and what they buy. This particular place is called Gordon’s Food Supply. They are a food wholesaler.

 

Okay, for the record, there is nothing wrong with Gordon’s. We shop there ourselves on occasion. What’s wrong is their business is to sell you what you want. They are not, nor should they be, in the business of setting nutritional standards. So to this hospital, they sell them what they want. The people who do the buying have three criterion by which the select food. Those are price, cost, and price, as in low, low, and low.

 

For these burger patties, they pretend to be creative. They serve them about eight different ways. The will plop one of these tasteless flat burgers on a plate, slop a little beef stock on it and call it a chopped steak. Another way is to put some kind of tomato sauce on it and call it Italian steak, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. What can the patient expect to get with this stuff? A salad of just lettuce and high calorie dressing with some limp cheap bread or a dinner role. For dessert, they can get a fruit cup. It is a bit of chopped fruit in a sealed cup with juice. I read the label. It is 50% sugar by weight. George got five of these cups a day and complained they did not satisfy him. Of course! There is no food value in them. They went through him like poop through a tin horn.

 

One problem I had was the drugs I was getting were pushing my natural body chemistry way out of whack. My blood sugar was sky high and my potassium and sodium were too low. So all I could order form the menu was sugar and more sugar. Great! A banana contains a huge amount of digestible potassium.  I looked every day for a banana on the menu. I never found one in six days. Mrs. Gaffer went down to the cafeteria to look. No bananas! There were no bananas anywhere in that hospital, but there were high sugar fruit cups always there. I could get five a day if I wished, but not one banana. A banana would cost perhaps a dime. I checked out these fruit cups. They go for less than a nickel in cartons of 500. That is institution food at its worst.

 

In six days, I managed to get one piece of fresh fruit. One Washington delicious apple on my last day was all could find on their menu. I ate it and enjoyed it, even though it was not a Michigan delicious. The Michigan apple is smaller with less color, but a great deal more snap and juice. Washington goes for color on the display. We go for flavor. I think, next time I will discuss what a hospital might do to make the victims stay a better experience. That has to do with how the patient is seen and dealt with by the staff.
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