Tuesday, January 16, 2007


I hate hospitals because my associations with them are all painful. Believe me, I only got confined in hospitals twice----when I delivered my two babies. After those times however, hospital trips became frequent---for consultation, immunizations, treatment, etc. The first time my first child was confined in the hospital was like nightmare. I must have been six to seven months pregnant of my second child at that time when my first one was having lbm and was vomiting and I did not know how serious that could get. It was my landlady who told me that dehydration could be a very dangerous consequence of lbm. Nervous to the point of breakdown, I scooped the child and took the first pedicab I saw. Dressed only in my old and tattered house dress I must have looked likeI have escaped from a nut house but I did not care about that. I was in a state of panic especially when a nurse started taking his measurements while he was lain on the examination table. Why was she doing that? Why were they not giving any medicines yet when they could see that the child was already weak and limp from vomiting? At that time when I was very scared the nurses were acting like nothing was happening and were drilling me with questions like "what did he eat?" "How many times did he make poo-poo?" I mean, how would I know the exact number of times? I did not even know that I was supposed to make a tally of this. At that moment while I waited for these people to give some medication to my sick son, it seemed like all the questions they were asking were irrelevant----the correct spelling of my family name, my address, where I worked, etc. For a scared mother like me, the questions sounded like, "What is your son's favorite color?" "Who is his favorite actress?" "What is his ambition in life?" "What is his motto in life?" They all sounded so stupid for asking those questions when they were supposed to give him treatment. He was confined on the 2nd floor and while there I expected that he would finally be given his medication but no, another nurse, a student nurse obviously, came in to ask me the same questions they had asked on the first floor! I mean, who wouldn't lose control? I said, didn't they give duplicates to all those who are interested of the answers to the same questions? My son needed treatment! That made the young nurse rush out of the room to tell those people there that I was angry.


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