Admitted For Observation

Upon arrival at our new state-of-the-art medical facility, the receptionist immediately greeted me and took down a brief explanation for my presence there.
She gave me directions to the maternity ward and requested that the security officer assist and escort me to my destination, which he willingly did, with his full set of exposed pearly whites and small talk.

My short journey up the stairs and down the corridor to the nurses’ station was littered with greetings and conversation with several familiar faces – patients, visitors, and nurses alike. Once my medical records were retrieved and I was examined, I was to select my preference of accommodations.

Medical Benefits card holders who choose a standard room, occupied by four persons, pay nothing. For semi private rooms with two persons or a private room, the difference is $200 plus and $800 plus, respectively.

I eventually settled into a room which I had to share with an Antiguan who was married to a cousin of mine, and a Jamaican who was the wife of my former co-worker’s younger brother. A young unmarried Guyanese later showed up to take the fourth bed.

Although I was only admitted for observation, it is always nice to be around others with different backgrounds and views, and to share in their varied experiences with regard to conception, pregnancy, labour, childbirth and motherhood. These ladies’ stories were colourful indeed. The Jamaican in particular, had nearly 10 different ways to describe the damage inflicted on her birth canal from the delivery of her 8 lb 6 ounce son. Meanwhile, after her 20 hours of labour and the delivery of her 8 lbs 10 ounce son, the Antiguan’s only inquiry was where she could purchase or trade up for a new vagina.

The young Guyanese, who was embarking on this journey for the first time, in her naïve and misplaced bravery, kept commenting that all she wanted was for the real pain to start to come. The rest of us simply laughed. Six hours later, the first bout of “real” contractions started to hit her, and she called for her mother and was begging the nurse to make it stop.

She went on to deliver another 10 hours after that, with much screaming and swearing and promising not to ever get pregnant again. She apparently did not pay attention or maybe even did not attend antenatal classes, did not listen to the nurses in the labour room, was pushing when she shouldn’t, and ultimately got swollen, torn in several places and too many stitches to count. She had to spend two extra days in the hospital because of all that. She vowed never ever to get pregnant ever again!

The rooms were nice and the paint colour and the décor were soothing, though a tad bit sterile. My only disappointments were that the standard rooms apparently only had ceiling fans, which were not very effective in removing the daytime heat, and there was no television in the room, so anyone who wanted to keep abreast of current issues or simply entertain themselves in between contractions or whatever else had to take a walk down the corridor to the waiting room to watch the television there. I had taken along my laptop in the hopes of corresponding with family and friends via the World Wide Web, checking my mail and probably getting a bit of work done or even completing a few unfinished projects. To my dismay, there was no internet access in the standard rooms.

The hardworking nurses were very pleasant and professional, and ensured that I was well taken care of. There were one or two members of the housekeeping staff who were very vocal and obviously extremely disgruntled.