The Hospital

The hospital is a sprawling complex, multiple buildings each eight or so stories tall and much of it fairly new construction. Walking in the front door of the “Pavilion” I am taken aback by sweeping cathedral ceilings, crisp architectural details, high end lighting, and big expanses of glass. Not cheap, and, what does this have to do with healthcare?

A friend is having a kidney removed and I am here with his family to offer what support I can. The surgery waiting area is packed so we find some chairs and set up camp in the hallway. There is no shortage of activity, doctors and nurses in scrubs, technicians, administrative personnel, porters, and janitors go back and forth all exuding competency and a sense of purpose. Patients go by in johnnies, some grasping an IV stand on casters with a bag of some fluid dangling from the top, others are laid out on rolling hospital beds pushed by staff. Some look pretty close to death. A young pregnant woman offers a wan smile and shuffles by. She has shackles on her ankles and is escorted by guards. We wait.

Everyone here is accommodating, but no one speaks to you for more than a few minutes. The surgeon makes an appearance. Members of the family go to him right away. “How is he?” They ask with some urgency. The doctor is large and a little overweight with a shock of white hair and a ruddy face. He is coming up on sixty and is friendly and distracted. I can more easily picture him in Carhart’s and driving a John Deere than Ralph Lauren and driving a Porsche.

“He’s doing fine.” He says. He pauses. “Wait. Now which one was he?” He smiles and looks a little embarrassed as he fumbles with slips of paper. “I’ve done two kidneys this morning.” It is eleven AM and these are each four hour surgeries. “Oh, he was the second one. Yeah, he’s doing fine.” The doctor smiles and takes his leave. He probably has a few more to do before calling it a day. One hopes he typically gets the right work order with the right patient.

The delivery of medical care is an industry, which is an odd and often troublesome pairing of service and methodology. At this moment the hospital reminds me of a reasonably well run service department in a large high end car dealership.

It’s easy to be the critic and I keep this in mind. Always. If what you need is a kidney taken out, this method works efficiently. They whisk you in, do what they do behind closed doors and send you on your way. After extracting their fee, of course. Bingo bango bongo. But what about feeling unwell, and pain, and probably uncertain and fearful? Life and death and health and sickness are mysterious. Push this back as we may, it’s still mysterious. The health care industry, or at least this hospital seems not well equipped to help patients or loved ones on this level.

Nevertheless my friend was on his feet the next day, and although he continues to be fairly uncomfortable he’s on his way to recovery.

Gordon Bunker