Going to Hospital
Today will be my second day visiting Kim in the Scripps Hospital in LaJolla, arguably one of the best hospital complexes in the world. Those visits and wandering those largely cavernous and vacant halls set me to thinking about what goes on in hospitals. I suspect that now, during this continued Pandemic, most of us are doing our best to stay as far away from hospitals as we can. That is far less possible for about 13% of the American workforce that is engaged in the healthcare industry. Yesterday, Kim and I engaged in a conversation with a young woman who is a nurses assistant, having just graduated from UC Davis with a degree in physiology and an intention to go on next year for her graduate degrees needed to become a nurse practitioner. This was a step down from her pre-college expectation to become a doctor and it is probably fair to say that working as a nursing assistant is probably even more ground floor reality for her. She has been doing it now at Scripps (probably a great job for her as a first-line opportunity at a great facility) for two months and does not seem in the least bit put off by the mundaneness or grittiness of the tasks involved. She had come in to help Kim get up from the hospital bed and go to the bathroom. The task was easy enough and her attitude was extremely pleasant even though Kim’s backside was on full display during the procedure. I made a joking a comment about it and the young woman shrugged and said those things didn’t bother her in the least and didn’t even make the list of difficult things to do in the job. It begged the question of what was on the list, but I deferred from asking.
One protocol in the hospital is an obvious need to be fully masked at all times in the public spaces of the hospital. I put my mask on in the car and even when I am walking outside to get to the lobby, I leave it on, as do almost all the people visiting. Inside the hospital the mask wearing is at a solid 100% including over the noses of people who might otherwise normally let their mask slip down to accommodate their nasal breathing. In Kim’s room when it is just her and me I take the mask off, but then put it back on if anyone comes to the door to check on her or take some vitals. One of the questions I asked the young nurses aide was how she perceived the Pandemic was affecting both her day-to-day work and her overall view of the career she was still in the process of signing onto. She said, notably through her mask, that she hadn’t noticed too much COVID related hardship because this floor, which was for post-surgical patients, many of whom had bariatric or voluntary surgery and were thus put through regular and rigorous COVID testing before coming in. And as for the longer term impact on her career choice, she explained that she had made the decision to pursue that path while she was taking her last year of college remotely from home, so she reasoned that nothing that has happened in the last two months has served to change her perspective. This was a thoughtful and optimistic young lady who will be a plus for the healthcare profession whichever exact path she chooses to pursue.
We spent a few minutes discussing the benefits of being one of the 13% of the workforce that dedicates themselves to the healthcare world. She agreed that in an ever-changing world, she would have an inordinate amount of job security which meant that her brethren who went in different directions would not have that same degree of job safety. With the pace of change in the commercial world, that is more than a little bit true and may have great sway on people’s decision-making during a time when they are seeing friends and family go through much gut-wrenching dislocation and job loss. She also noted the positive element that she had the ultimate flexible job that would allow her to work part-time if she chose as well as in almost any venue. This meant that not only could she live close to her work (however, not having much chance of enjoying the benefits of remote work, given the person-to-person nature of healthcare), but she could use the career path to move to whatever place in world she wished, since everywhere has demand for healthcare and will likely see that need do nothing but increase over time.
The hospital room at Scripps was nothing short of perfect for the need. It is a private room that basically has a fully automated and mechanized bed that can do just about everything in a self-contained manner. Besides that there is the usual array of chair, sofa, rolling adjustable height table and flat-screen TV. All things in the room from the TV to the lights and bed configuration are controllable from a handset on the bed. All as it should be, but all nice, new and functional. The private bathroom is large and easily accommodates a wheelchair if necessary. I have mentioned to Kim that it is fairly easy to see how someone might find this to be a more accommodative place to while away one’s last days because it is so very convenient. She informs me that she isn’t even close to thinking that way, which is reassuring.
When she reviewed her day so far, she tells me there was a shower, a cup of jello, a trip to the upper GI x-ray room, a few trips to the bathroom, another cup of jello and then my arrival at 12:30. That and a few texts, was what she could accomplish in seven hours. So, I decided to review my morning for her. I got up and showered, did a few hours of expert report editing and rewriting, had a call with my SEDA team about next steps with the report, talked with Natasha while petting Betty, got in the car and drove here for a call with my real estate lawyer about the lien search on the house in Staten Island that I am putting up for sale for my son Roger and I. The conference call was to happen while I ate a Scripps Hospital cafeteria lunch of teriyaki chicken and rice, but the lien report didn’t arrive so the call didn’t happen. That was my day so far and I hesitate to suggest that it was all that more productive than Kim’s.
We’ve just had the daily visit from the surgeon who tells us that all looks good with the GI x-ray and all the test vitals, so he recommends Kim spend the day getting a bit more mobile and stronger and come home with me tomorrow morning, So, this visit to the hospital has an apparent endpoint to it on the horizon, which is a good thing. I recognize that hospitals become a bigger part of our lives after a certain age and perhaps even more so in this new era of infectious disease, but Kim and I will do our best to limit our visits and use of the facility, as nice as it is down here at Scripps. We want to leave the capacity for all those who need it more and spend our days trying to stay healthy on our hilltop.