On Hospital Food and Rose Buds

Since surgery I’ve been having good days and bad days. Last Saturday, at the hospital, was a great day. Jen and I walked through the hospital to the cafeteria, the atrium a couple times, I even tried some steps to see how it would go at home. Then Sunday I crashed. Had a terrible day. Yesterday was a good day; today a not-so-good-day. So it will go for a while, I guess.

Here’s something to ponder: A hospital is a place people go to rest, recover, recuperate, right? A place for the sick and injured. So why is it that the two things people need most–rest and good nutrition–are so lacking at hospitals? During the night, I had nurses coming in my room every few hours waking me up, my roommate snoring up a typhoon, and his TV on 24/7. Sleep was difficult to come by. And the food, well, well, well, the food was simply . . . um, gee, how you say awful? I didn’t have an appetite to start with but when they plopped down dry, rubbery chicken and instant mashed potatoes in front of me, the only thing my stomach said was, Yeah, right. The scrambled eggs I had for breakfast were powdered, the chicken broth for lunch (and breakfast one day–yeah, I know) was that chicken soup in a cup stuff you microwave. The food was not healthy and simply not good. What’s the deal?

My most difficult part of this recovery is going to be the ileostomy. I’m having a tough time with it. I feel gross. I feel like it’s a ball and chain. I’m still having a hard time adjusting to the site of my small intestine protruding through the wall of my abdomen (it’s called a stoma). I mean, God put in on the inside for a reason, right? The nurse calls the stoma a “rose bud” because it does resemble one. I roll my eyes. Rose buds are beautiful, delicate, easy to look at, and smell great–this stoma is anything but that. Now, that being said, I’m thankful for the medical wonders we can do nowadays that allow doctors to pull something like this off. It’s simply amazing. My not accepting it is my problem. It’s only for six months. I’ll adjust. I’ll deal with it.

I’m thankful I’m alive.