Lizzie’s Hospital Confessionals: Episode 7
So I’ve got a couple more days of hospital time under my belt now. It’s 1p.m. on Sunday and I just opted out of most of my lunch. I probably would have tried to stomach a bit more of the mystery spinach liquid if Burke hadn’t promised to bring me a Green Monster:) How lucky am I? On that note, I want to share with you how extremely blessed I feel. Burke has come to visit me every day, and I also had visiting representatives of the Kilbry and DeBruin families. I can’t really imagine having many more visitors even if I was in America.
I’m sad to say that even more ladies have left the hall since the Great Release on Friday. I don’t know how they are doing it since I was told patients aren’t released on the weekend, but they’ve managed to bust out. I have a new friend though, I’ve seen her praying a few times and then last night I made a joke to her and she laughed.
The ladies and I spend a lot of time waiting in line together. The nurses call for Ošetrenie and we all leave our rooms and line up. I decided early on that the ladies who left their rooms before me should end up in the line before me, meaning that sometimes I walk SO slowly to stay behind them. My favorite line moment happened when one lady apparently went to the bathroom and back to her room before they called for drops. By the time she was in line she complained that she felt like she walked up and down the hall all morning- it must have been one whole kilometer!
The other notable line occurence has happened a few times. It’s fairly common knowledge that Europeans have a different concept of personal space than Americans, but some of these ladies take that to the extreme. At times while I am waiting for my kvapky or meal tray, I have felt a little old lady encroaching on my space from behind. I step forward, she steps forward. It’s essentially spooning while standing in line. What really gets me is that its not the same lady every time.
Remember how I said my patient card says Katherine, which is like the Slovak name Katarina? Last night one of the nurses finally just started calling me Katka, the short version of that name. I must have proficiently used the little Slovak that I know because no one warned her about her American patient and she never caught on.
Last topic for this post is a reitterance of how much Slovaks love their creature comforts. When I first arrived, at 3:30 am mind you, I was in my pajamas, but when you check into the hospital, they give you pajamas and a robe to wear so you are comfortable and then later if you want your own from home, someone can bring them to you. I told them I already had my pajamas on, but no. I had no robe so therefore, what I was wearing clearly was not my pajamas. Also while I was waiting in line that first morning before Burke arrived with my belongings, I was sitting wearing my hospital issued dressing clothes and my own socks. As I waited fifteen, twenty, and eventaully twenty five minutes for my drops to be administered, a nurse saw me and rather than give me my medicine, she brought me slippers. Gee thanks.
Update: I have a new roommate! She’s nice and figured out on her own that I’m not Slovak when I tried to help her as her bed rolled away. Our conversation is now the longest Slovak conversation I’ve ever had. She asked about me and I told her how I’m from American but Burke and I live and work here. And she told me about (I think) her son who lives in Cleveland! and someone else she is related to who works here in Slovakia and then goes somewhere else for four years and then comes back for two and he is currently in Iran. She asked if my Grandparents are here or from here and I told her no but I have a very nice grandma in America who is 89. Probably more to come on this lady later.