How To Survive a Hospital Stay
by Beverly A. Kipp

It can happen in an instant. One moment you are an "I've never been sick a day in my life" kind of person and the next moment you stand wide eyed and terrified as the physician's staff calls the hospital admissions office. A few minutes later you are on your way.

Now what do you do? You have no "being sick" skills. You don't think you even own a pair of pajamas and if you do, they are from two sizes ago. This essay is my humble attempt to help you out, for I have played almost every role in the hospital vignette, from patient to ward clerk, and over the years I have gleaned a few valuable tips. While I am presently a nurse by profession, my suggestions are not necessarily endorsed by my current or any of my previous employers.

Getting Settled
"Getting settled," in hospital lingo, means answering a thousand questions. Alas, it is fairly important that the answers are correct.

The first thing they want is your insurance information. If you are conscious, nothing moves forward until those little numbers on your insurance card are entered into the system. Carry it with you. Always. Make a copy and carry it in your sock when you go out for a little run in case the little run turns into a big fall, or worse, a hit and run. Then, if you are unconscious, they not only know who you are, they have the numbers. It is the most important thing you do after always wearing clean underwear just like your mother taught you.

Next question—name, address, phone number, next of kin, who to contact in an emergency—remember this may, in fact, be an emergency. Then comes your medical history. Now, if it is true that you have never been sick a day in your life, this is limited to "Are your parents, siblings, children, still alive and well and if not, what's wrong with them or what exactly did they die from?" The "exactly" in this question matters. A vague sort of answer that points to heart trouble is not very helpful. A specific diagnosis or disease may speed up, or at least prioritize, the work-up to be done for you.

If you have had only the usual smattering of minor ailments, it helps if you can give the details. Allergies are a big deal. From adhesive tape to penicillin to seafood, your answer may change the course of the treatment you get. It might even save your life. Again, a vague "I think I'm allergic to..." just isn't good enough; the nurse is looking for something more like "I get hives from sulfa." Medication is a big deal too. From Alka-Seltzer to zinc, from Ativan to Zestril, anything that you reach for regularly, counts. Daily or weekly, over the counter or prescription, legal or illegal, if you take it, they need to know it.

Now, if you are a person who thinks of going to the doctor or the hospital as casually as going to the grocery store, then this part is a little different for you. In your case bringing along, besides the insurance card, a succinct list of dates, diagnosis, medications and treatments, typed out and ready to be handed to the nurse, will save lots of time. A word of caution: if your history is more than three pages long, it is probably too much information.

The last really big deal in this part is the question about your Health Care Proxy. If you are reading this and do not have a Health Care Proxy or HCP go on-line and download one or get one from your doctor. Everyone should have one. Young and old, sick and well—in triplicate (for you, your proxy, and the hospital.) If it isn't on your chart, it doesn't help you. Your HCP speaks for you when you cannot speak for yourself, but that only works if you have had an honest conversation your designated spokesperson what your wishes are. Such things as "If you can never eat filet again, do you want to live on mush?" Don't laugh. This stuff is the real deal. The quality of your life may depend on it.

Taking It Off
The ugly part comes next. They tell you to get undressed. Forget about your too big or too small PJs. Hospitals are known for their unisex/unisize Johnny Coats. They accommodate IV tubing, monitor cables, etc. and are impervious to blood and any other bodily byproduct. A nice lightweight, washable robe that opens in the front will meet most fashion or vanity needs.

Once you're settled, what then? The rhythm of a day in a hospital is unlike the rhythm anywhere else on earth. Thinking of yourself as a guest in a foreign country may help ease the feelings of anxiety. Your hosts are there to help you, to teach you the language. You will learn the culture as you go. In the meantime, make yourself as comfortable as possible. Start with your own pillow. Make sure it has a colorful pillowcase—primary colors or plaids work best: anything to keep it out of the hospital laundry. You may want your own comfy blanket as well. Fleece throws are great, but again, remember color.

The facility will provide you with interim toiletries, but let's be honest, they are the dime-a-dozen variety so, if you have any skin sensitivities, or can't imagine life without L'Oreal, you will want your own. If you have dentures, bring the glue and the cleanser. You will get a denture cup but make sure you put your name on it and never ever set your dentures on your dinner tray or lay them on the bed. The rule is in your mouth or in the cup unless you want to go home without your teeth. The same is true for hearing aids and eyeglasses.

Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, in comes a nurse for your admission assessment. This part is about your body as it is right now. Aches and pains, bumps and lumps, form and function. One of the questions they'll ask is "When was your last bowel movement (BM)?" If you are a person who has never given a thought to the proverbial poop, let me tell you that poop matters. Life in the hospital revolves around your last BM. Whatever is wrong with you will be worse if you don't keep pooping. Sorry, but that is just the way it is and every one in the hospital will keep bringing it up.

This leads us to the issue of embarrassment. You may be embarrassed, but your caregivers are not. Those of us who have chosen to make a career out of taking care of others are not put off by body parts or bodily fluids. Our goal is to help you get well. Sometimes that is a messy job. We really truly do not mind. The hospital is the only place in the world where passing gas is cause for celebration and a really good BM is a really great thing. Try to relax and see the humor in it all. Laughter really is the best medicine for overcoming embarrassment.

Sometimes we laugh and sometimes we cry. Which brings up the question of Kleenex. Any hospital I have ever been in provides every patient with a little tiny box of tissues. They are useless. Whether you have a cough or a runny nose or are just plain scared to death and can't stop crying, you need real Kleenex. The first person who calls and says, "Can I bring you anything?" answer "Yes, Kleenex." Trust me, you will be glad you did.

Here are a few other miscellaneous items: If you are a tea drinker and want your tea to taste like tea, not coffee, bring your own mug. Send your valuables home or let the staff lock them up in the safe. This is not the time to be showing off Grandma's heirloom earrings. You will want to keep your watch (or a little travel clock) as the hours and days in a hospital all run together. A pocket calendar helps too.

Participating in Your Own Health Care
First, get a bound notebook and pen and start making lists. Start with a list of the names and numbers of your caregivers. If you are seen by a cardiologist, a radiologist, and an anesthesiologist, it is easy to mix them up. Don't let the busyness of the nurses and doctors stop you from asking questions. Write down your questions and write down the answers. Ask when you will see your primary doctor. This will help if you want a family member present when the doctor comes in. Ask who your primary doctor is. If you are having surgery it may be the surgeon that is running the show, not the doctor who sent you there in the first place.

Make a list of any tests that you have so that you can remember to find out the result. If you have an x-ray, you have a right to have an x-ray result. Same with a blood test. Not necessarily immediately, but by the end of the adventure you should be able to check off either worry or don't worry after each test on your list.

Speaking of the end of the adventure: getting out is not always as easy as getting in. Hospitals take pride in the number of specialists they employ and they even have a specialist just for your return trip—the Hospital Discharge Planner. The day you are admitted he or she starts to figure out what the plan is for you to leave. Will you go home or do you need acute or sub-acute rehabilitation? A nursing home? Ask to meet the discharge planner early in your stay. Discharge planners are the bridge from where you are to wherever you are going.

And so ends my lighthearted attempt to share my tips on hospital preparedness. My hope is that these tips will make your journey a little easier if and when you ever have to hear those dreaded words "I'm going to admit you to the hospital . . ."