If I had wanted to be a doctor...

I'm reposting some of my old blog material,
mostly to get it all in one place again.
This was originally posted on My Space on Mar 3, 2008.

228.

That's the number of days my dad had been in some type of medical care facility ranging from intensive care to skilled nursing.

Follow the bouncing ball.

He gets better, he gets worse. The only constant has been his attitude. It's been good the entire time. Amazingly good. His nurses love him. He's mentally alert and he teases with them constantly. I suppose it's rare to have a patient be that sick and still be that chipper.

I doubt I could have remained positive for so long. In fact, if I had had to deal with some of the stupidity he's had to deal with, i'd have probably killed someone by now.

I've learned so much in the last 228 days.

I know medical terms a non-medical person shouldn't know. I've filled out their forms so many times that now I have to show the nurses where I'm supposed to sign. They seldom get it right. I know about medications and their side effects. I know what a Level of Care form is. I know all the possible outcomes of at least a dozen different procedures, good and bad. I know the Texas Medical Center like the back of my hand. I know that as long as you act like you know what you're doing that you can go just about anywhere at any time and no one will even give you a second look. I know that the chairs in a hospital are incredibly uncomfortable. I know that there are good and bad nurses and there are good and bad doctors. I know what CHF is. I know an amazing amount of medical supplies get wasted every day. I know that i'm sick of washing my hands every time i go into and out of my dad's room. I know that certain pain meds make my dad halucinate, and not in a good way.

I know that the care you receive depends on your ability to pay. It depends on how many 'Medicare' days you have left. It depends on whether Medicare or your insurance company deems it 'necessary'. It depends on how badly the hospital needs the bed you're laying in. It depends on how risky a procedure is and what the chances are that the doctor will be sued if it goes badly. It seldom depends on you or your condition.

I know that I know more than I ever wanted to know about what goes on inside a hospital. I know that I'm tired of having to make decisions that I'm not even close to being qualified to make. I know that if I had wanted to be a doctor I'd have gone to fucking medical school.

Get well dad. Come home.