Facebook keeps nagging me to "like" Children's Hospital Boston.
I have a few mutual friends who are a "fan" of their facebook page so why not jump on the band wagon?
I refuse.
Sure, it's a place my son spent 3 months of his life.
And yes, it has a few amazing doctors who I owe much gratitute too.
But a fan?
No.
When oldest was in the NICU I wrote a letter to the president upon discharge. Topics like lack of communication were first on my list.
Since then, they havent earned my respect back. Issues such as long waiting times, poor customer service and oh yea, the valet driving my car away as I was still unbuckeling youngest out of his car seat at the age of two.
Yesterday was no different.
Oldest was scheduled for a few minor procedures. The whole surgery should have been an hour and I expected to be home an hour after that.
12:15 arrival time for a 1:45 surgery.
Do the math.
90 minutes of sit around and wait. I know the drill though. They want you there early so you dont mess up the surgeons times and keep everyone on schedule for the day.
Considering I'm Mrs Prompt, this was not an issue for me.
Until I hit a gas leak on Rt 9 and traffic came to a halt.
I was then guided by a police man who had no time to answer my questions, to turn right. And then what? I had no idea how far down Rt 9 was closed and didn't want to make another circle. Cars were at a standstill trying to navigate down the side streets of Newton. I called Dear Husband annoyed and stressed that I would be late. (I should've remembered the ol' motto of hurry up and wait. It would've made my traffic stance a bit more relaxed) Thankfully I grew up in Newton and knew the back roads. After driving through the entire town I managed to hit Rt 9 and get to Children's 45 minutes late. I called to let them know. No one seemed concerned. That should've been my first clue.
Upon check in the medical assistant, Emma Emotionless, took us back without so much of a smile. She weighed Jared, stuck a thermometer in his ear, took his BP and taped on his oxygen monitor all without discussing with him what she was doing. Without so much of a smile.
Ms. Emotionless then threw the tiger printed jammies at us (three sizes too big for Oldest) and drew the curtain. Considering it was 145 I concluded we would not be seen on time. After a few minutes I went to find another nurse to see how much longer it would be. Nurse Mean Manager told me another 90 minutes. As I fell out of my chair and looked at my poor child who hadnt eaten or had anything to drink since 930 the previous night, my heart sunk and my adrenaline rose. Are you kidding me? So if I hadnt hit traffic I wouldve been sitting there an extra 3 hours. Without an apology. Without a phone call telling me they were running 90 minutes behind.
On time, 90 minutes later, Dr ORL extrodinaire showed up (ORL is the new ENT. Dont ask) Finally someone with some service apologized profusely for the wait. Things happen. He joked around with oldest, found us a game of Connect Four to play and prayed it wouldnt be much longer. Dr GI followed suit 20 minutes later and there we were. Waiting.
The sole patient in pre-op.
I kid you not
Stuck there with Nurse Mean Manager.
I bitched my way into free parking and a cafe voucher. After all, we're talking about a 7 yr old boy waiting 3 extra hours for surgery.
We're talking about a little boy who already is anxious enough; let alone making him wait another 180 minutes.
415 oldest went under anasthesia.
I ran to pee
And then to grab a diet coke.
I then posted my frustration on facebook so that I could get empathy from my 370 closest friends.
An hour later oldest was out and all was fine.
Until his sats wouldnt come up.
Until he remained at 92 (needed 95 to be discharged)
Until he continued to sleep and need oxygen.
For another 2+ hours.
Are you kidding me?
My kid is fine.
He lived for almost two years on a ventilator do you think I'm concerned about a 92 saturation level?
I'm an experienced mother who is not a worry wart over things like this (believe me I worry. About pleanty. But Im very level headed when it comes to my kids being sick) (Especially oldest)
I complain.
Once again.
To Dr in charge.
Who calmly looks at the post-op nurse and tells her to send us home.
Now where was he 2 hours ago?
I ended up still paying $3 for parking.
And for my diet coke because the cafe voucher was only good for a cafe that carries diet pepsi and I didnt want to sacrifice after the kind of day I was having.
And I ended up getting stuck in traffic on Rt 128 only 5 minutes from my house because of them paving the roads.
But, at 9PM when my son was tucked into his bed, fast asleep; and I was eating dinner made by Dear Husband three hours prior, all was well with the world.
But I will not become a fan of Children's Hospital.
I have a few mutual friends who are a "fan" of their facebook page so why not jump on the band wagon?
I refuse.
Sure, it's a place my son spent 3 months of his life.
And yes, it has a few amazing doctors who I owe much gratitute too.
But a fan?
No.
When oldest was in the NICU I wrote a letter to the president upon discharge. Topics like lack of communication were first on my list.
Since then, they havent earned my respect back. Issues such as long waiting times, poor customer service and oh yea, the valet driving my car away as I was still unbuckeling youngest out of his car seat at the age of two.
Yesterday was no different.
Oldest was scheduled for a few minor procedures. The whole surgery should have been an hour and I expected to be home an hour after that.
12:15 arrival time for a 1:45 surgery.
Do the math.
90 minutes of sit around and wait. I know the drill though. They want you there early so you dont mess up the surgeons times and keep everyone on schedule for the day.
Considering I'm Mrs Prompt, this was not an issue for me.
Until I hit a gas leak on Rt 9 and traffic came to a halt.
I was then guided by a police man who had no time to answer my questions, to turn right. And then what? I had no idea how far down Rt 9 was closed and didn't want to make another circle. Cars were at a standstill trying to navigate down the side streets of Newton. I called Dear Husband annoyed and stressed that I would be late. (I should've remembered the ol' motto of hurry up and wait. It would've made my traffic stance a bit more relaxed) Thankfully I grew up in Newton and knew the back roads. After driving through the entire town I managed to hit Rt 9 and get to Children's 45 minutes late. I called to let them know. No one seemed concerned. That should've been my first clue.
Upon check in the medical assistant, Emma Emotionless, took us back without so much of a smile. She weighed Jared, stuck a thermometer in his ear, took his BP and taped on his oxygen monitor all without discussing with him what she was doing. Without so much of a smile.
Ms. Emotionless then threw the tiger printed jammies at us (three sizes too big for Oldest) and drew the curtain. Considering it was 145 I concluded we would not be seen on time. After a few minutes I went to find another nurse to see how much longer it would be. Nurse Mean Manager told me another 90 minutes. As I fell out of my chair and looked at my poor child who hadnt eaten or had anything to drink since 930 the previous night, my heart sunk and my adrenaline rose. Are you kidding me? So if I hadnt hit traffic I wouldve been sitting there an extra 3 hours. Without an apology. Without a phone call telling me they were running 90 minutes behind.
On time, 90 minutes later, Dr ORL extrodinaire showed up (ORL is the new ENT. Dont ask) Finally someone with some service apologized profusely for the wait. Things happen. He joked around with oldest, found us a game of Connect Four to play and prayed it wouldnt be much longer. Dr GI followed suit 20 minutes later and there we were. Waiting.
The sole patient in pre-op.
I kid you not
Stuck there with Nurse Mean Manager.
I bitched my way into free parking and a cafe voucher. After all, we're talking about a 7 yr old boy waiting 3 extra hours for surgery.
We're talking about a little boy who already is anxious enough; let alone making him wait another 180 minutes.
415 oldest went under anasthesia.
I ran to pee
And then to grab a diet coke.
I then posted my frustration on facebook so that I could get empathy from my 370 closest friends.
An hour later oldest was out and all was fine.
Until his sats wouldnt come up.
Until he remained at 92 (needed 95 to be discharged)
Until he continued to sleep and need oxygen.
For another 2+ hours.
Are you kidding me?
My kid is fine.
He lived for almost two years on a ventilator do you think I'm concerned about a 92 saturation level?
I'm an experienced mother who is not a worry wart over things like this (believe me I worry. About pleanty. But Im very level headed when it comes to my kids being sick) (Especially oldest)
I complain.
Once again.
To Dr in charge.
Who calmly looks at the post-op nurse and tells her to send us home.
Now where was he 2 hours ago?
I ended up still paying $3 for parking.
And for my diet coke because the cafe voucher was only good for a cafe that carries diet pepsi and I didnt want to sacrifice after the kind of day I was having.
And I ended up getting stuck in traffic on Rt 128 only 5 minutes from my house because of them paving the roads.
But, at 9PM when my son was tucked into his bed, fast asleep; and I was eating dinner made by Dear Husband three hours prior, all was well with the world.
But I will not become a fan of Children's Hospital.
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