I have been hospitalized many times: for a tonsillectomy, the extraction of impacted wisdom teeth, a hysterectomy, foot surgery, and five jaw surgeries. Each experience focused on a different body part, but each shared a common factor: fear.
Everything about the hospital frightened me. I didn’t like the overwhelming smell of antiseptic or the moans of other patients emanating from the surrounding rooms. I shuddered whenever a nurse approached my bed, convinced they were about to communicate bad news to me. I was afraid to move my left arm, fearful that I’d dislodge the IV and need to once again endure the pain of having it inserted. I shivered with anxiety over every encounter with the phlebotomist’s tubes and needles.
Night was the most frightening time. My family had left to catch up on much-needed sleep. The hall lights seemed dimmer, giving the setting a haunted-house aura, through which white-clad nurses floated like ghosts. Night was when my imagination took flight. I was sure that I’d have a setback and need to be rushed back to the OR, or that I’d suffer a cardiac episode and not be able to push the button for the nurse. I regularly had nightmares, even though sleeping on the hard hospital bed was impossible.
Most of all, I feared death. Being hospitalized always made me cognizant of my mortality. A part of me needed repair or removal; my body was not functioning as it should. Although I’d walked into the hospital, I was convinced I’d leave in a body bag. I spent many hours crying in my hospital bed, praying for the morning sunshine that would assure me I’d survived another night.
Being hospitalized stripped me of any rational thoughts. I reverted to childhood, wishing I had my “blanky” to protect me from the dangers lurking around me. Yet when I was able to think rationally, I knew that being hospitalized was a good thing—an integral part of my getting-better process.
My hope is that I will be able to avoid another hospitalization, despite getting older and recognizing that I am likely to eventually need some kind of intensive care. With each birthday, my fear of being hospitalized heightens.
Ronna L. Edelstein
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania