Hospital Trip, 2006 (Part 463)

My kids know hospitals. For a month now, as long as D has been in the hospital, I've told them that their daddy is in the hospital. Of course I knew they didn't know what that meant, but since he has been hospitalized/on bed rest for 10 months of their almost 2 years, nearly half their lives, I think they need to know the concept. They have visited him in three different facilities, plus just going into his apartment when he is stuck in bed. D is always in some kind of weird-fangled bed, a great toy for them. So I figured out today that the word "hospital" to them means the bed itself, I think. The act of sitting with dad in the big, funny bed.

So, I hauled my kids across the continent to go see him today. It was a totally spontaneous thing. Someone I know told me recently that you can take light rail to this hospital, but you have to walk six or eight blocks. That sounded easier to me than a bus, so we got on Google earth and she helped me see if there was any way that you could walk from the light rail station to the hospital without having to cross this major interstate. Turns out that you can. If you pick the right street, you can go under it. One thing Google earth didn't show, however, was that you are walking up one gihugic hill up these six blocks. Man, and pushing a stroller to boot. All I kept saying to myself was, "Just remember, when you go home this will be all downhill."

Oh, I should mention that last Monday D got out of the Burn Center and moved to the regular hospital next door because the Burn Center was overcrowded. That is why I could even consider hauling me and the kids over there. Kids under 12 are not allowed in the burn center (which is practically like a prison on lock down, anyway.) But they are allowed at the regular hospital. This is not the rehab hospital that I've talked about yet, this is just an intermediate holding tank.

Anyway, I got up this morning, itching to get the kids out of the house and was thinking of going to the children's museum or somewhere. Then I thought if I'm going that far, I  might as well go twice that far to see their dad because I am insane. It is a half a mile walk, a 40 minute train ride, a ten minute wait, a 20 minute train ride, and then another half a mile walk. Oh, and did I mention it is entirely up a steep hill? We will not be making this trip again any time soon, but I think that it is important for them to know he still exists. They have not seen him for a month and he has at least three more weeks to go at this hospital, and then ??? weeks to go at the rehab hospital. We have had to go to his place a few times and they get upset when they don't find him there. So, we have talked about him being in the hospital and they have (in their sorta, kinda, toddler way) talked to him on the phone, but I think at this age it only counts when it is in the flesh.

I didn't tell him we were coming, and I took the kids out of their stroller in the hallway, cracked the door quietly, and just let them wander on in the room without saying anything. It was a surprise. We stayed about an hour and a half. We ate lunch there in a very small room. I think his bed was a big hit. It looks like a tub, sorta. It feels like a water bed, but with fish and octopuses swimming around in it and pushing up from underneath. It's creepy. It has some kind of sand, gel, water mixture in it that circulates and pushes the sand around. When you place your hand on it, it feels like a really sloshy water bed but with little fingers intermittently poking you. It was hilarious to see the kids' expressions when they sat on it. Naim kept lifting his feet up but that just made his butt sink in more and he got stuck. He was shaped like a V, and looked worried but slightly amused. Then, I just fed them lunch right on the bed because the room is so small there was really no where else to do it. It was a picnic on the water or the sandy beach, I guess. Then Grampa B came and so they got to see him for a bit, which was nice.

Here is a picture that I stole off the 'nets of the clinitron bed:

It is really not a viable long term home solution. He can't move in it, not to mention that it costs somewheres up to the price of my house or something and nursing homes can't even get these beds. But it sure does the trick as far as wound healing, I take it.

I took a few shots of them, and then showed them the pictures tonight. Aaron pointed to the bed and said, "op-it-al." I think he thinks hospital is the bed. Funny.

It was kind of nice to go downtown to change trains. I used to go downtown every day when I was a working person with an actual career type of thing. I miss feeling like you are dressed up and going somewhere important to earn money. I miss downtown. We may think about going over again before he leaves and goes to the other hospital on this side of town...or maybe not. We'll see. It may sound better when I'm not so exhausted and I've forgotten about how long it took.

Comments

[Amanda]

Wow, that was quite a trek with two toddlers! Good for you for just going. And like they say half the fun is getting there, right?
Your boys are sweet.
They look to me like mine in a year or so :)

[shannon]

D. looks cheerful. Is he feeling okay, given the circumstances?

[Gillian]

Is it rude to ask why Grandpa B. didn't give all of you a ride home?

[Lisa]

Gillian,

Grampa B. did offer. Unfortunately I didn't want to pull a Britney Spears and go all that way back home without car seats.