I had an outpatient procedure done the other day. Whenever I enter a medical environment I look around for artwork and to see if the place is embracing when I walk in. Art was nice enough and well placed which gave me a sense of comfort. But as I reclined on the gurney behind blue and purple curtains dressed in I can’t remember the print on my hospital gown, an overwhelming sense of discomfort covered me. Negative experiences from hospital visits past surfaced so quickly that before I knew it, a hushed sob had me wiping the tears as fast as they poured hoping that anyone who passed by would not see them.
The first time I ever had an intravenous tube inserted was back when I was a child. It was traumatic because the nurse had a difficult time getting it in. All I remember was the pain and bright red blood all over the bed. So imagine my disbelief when my technician failed at her first attempt to insert the needle. Was herstory repeating itself? I heard myself starting to hum some made up tune as I tapped rhythmically with my fingers on the guard rail. The more I hummed the calmer we both became and though painful and bloody, she had success on her second attempt. Several soft warm blankets were placed over me allowing me to curl up and snuggle in my heated tent as I waited and peered out. Though there was no artwork on the sterile walls, high above the bed was a window that let in some sunlight. I knew there were trees outside that window so my tent was actually in my hospital tree house (see September 13 treescape post). I watched staff dance in well choreographed steps that changed from moment to mom
ent as they interacted with each other, tended to other patients, took care of business. It was amazingly quiet to be so lively back there. I sniffed for the smell of alcohol and antiseptics; nothing but clean air filled my nose. The last thing I had tasted well over 24 hours before wiggled and jiggled. My mouth began to anticipate something a little more substantial. So when they came to get me, I was bright and sassy, flirting with that handsome specimen who came to wheel me in.
In what seemed like a NY minute, I was in celebratory recovery. By keying in on the senses and using some creative thinking I had managed to avoid a dark corridor filled with scary moments from my past bringing comfort to the uncomfortable…a small yet important victory. And since when did four graham crackers taste like a smorgasbord?
keep your peepers open! ®
The first time I ever had an intravenous tube inserted was back when I was a child. It was traumatic because the nurse had a difficult time getting it in. All I remember was the pain and bright red blood all over the bed. So imagine my disbelief when my technician failed at her first attempt to insert the needle. Was herstory repeating itself? I heard myself starting to hum some made up tune as I tapped rhythmically with my fingers on the guard rail. The more I hummed the calmer we both became and though painful and bloody, she had success on her second attempt. Several soft warm blankets were placed over me allowing me to curl up and snuggle in my heated tent as I waited and peered out. Though there was no artwork on the sterile walls, high above the bed was a window that let in some sunlight. I knew there were trees outside that window so my tent was actually in my hospital tree house (see September 13 treescape post). I watched staff dance in well choreographed steps that changed from moment to mom
ent as they interacted with each other, tended to other patients, took care of business. It was amazingly quiet to be so lively back there. I sniffed for the smell of alcohol and antiseptics; nothing but clean air filled my nose. The last thing I had tasted well over 24 hours before wiggled and jiggled. My mouth began to anticipate something a little more substantial. So when they came to get me, I was bright and sassy, flirting with that handsome specimen who came to wheel me in.In what seemed like a NY minute, I was in celebratory recovery. By keying in on the senses and using some creative thinking I had managed to avoid a dark corridor filled with scary moments from my past bringing comfort to the uncomfortable…a small yet important victory. And since when did four graham crackers taste like a smorgasbord?
keep your peepers open! ®
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