Recently, during our travels, Hubby came down with an excruciating stomachache.  Alarmed that it might be appendicitis, we sought a hospital in Florida. Upon driving up to the Emergency Room door at Sarasota Hospital, one of the top ten in the country, a handsome valet, clad in an official valet outfit to identify himself lest we think he was some random stranger stealing our car. It was a nice surprise not to have to drop Hubby off at the entrance then drive around and around to try to find a parking space. Upon entering the ER, I learned that the mandate to wear a COVID mask had loosened, and it was a breath of fresh air to be able to wear it as a chin strap again. 

The waiting room was large and clean, with comfy chairs in abundance and telephone charging cords located throughout. A few ill-looking patients and their significant others slouched on the chairs, mostly looking at their phones or trying to sleep, head in their hands.  The twinkling of a nursery rhyme came over the loudspeakers, signifying that a baby had been born. (During my stay, fifteen babies were born!)

Within five minutes of sitting down, Hubby’s name was called.  He politely declined a wheelchair, instead lurching forward holding onto his stomach and groaning.  We were ushered into a large room with pastel peach sheets on the stretcher, which, as usual, was about four inches too short for Hubby’s tall frame.  He was thrilled that he was able to wear his own clothes, rather than have his bottom stick out the back of a johnny. The staff parade began, and each person was pleasant and reassuring. The room had a thick sliding glass door as an enclosure, shutting out the hospital sounds of the rooms around us. Two cozy chairs for significant others lined the wall, and I was happy to sit in something other than a hard, straight-backed chair. The room was…gasp…actually pleasant!

A charming intern, who called Maine his home, came in to examine Hubby.  They reminisced about life in the Northeast, and how much has changed in the past few years, which put him at ease. A CAT scan was ordered, and an IV was started to give him fluids due to some dehydration.

When he was taken down for the test, I snuck off to find some food.  A cute café offered breakfast sandwiches, which are generally pretty typical and not very exciting. However, I took one bite of my bacon, egg and cheese croissant, and it melted in my mouth!  The croissant was flaky and crispy, not soggy like at so many other places.  The egg was a real egg fried in a little metal circle, making it the exact correct size. Several slices of bacon, cooked crispy to perfection, topped the egg, with melted cheddar cheese oozing throughout. It was the best breakfast sandwich of my life!     

Even though the hospital was a maze, the way back to Hubby’s room was clearly marked. He was resting when I returned.  The lights were dim and the curtains were drawn.  He explained that it would take several hours for the doctor to read the CAT scan results, and that we were to wait in the room.  Because we had left so early in the am to get to the hospital, I had not completed my beauty sleep, so I pushed the two cozy chairs together, took off my shoes, and curled up in a ball to nap, falling asleep almost immediately. Waking up a few hours later, I only had fifteen minutes to play solitaire on my telephone before the doctor came in.  The CAT scan showed some discoloration near Hubby’s old hernia scar, indicating gastroenteritis. It was decided that Hubby would be admitted overnight for observation and intravenous fluids.

The hospital room was comfortable; large shower with a seat, television with regular and premium channels, very pleasant nurses, and a roommate who was sleeping.  A gourmet menu of food that could be ordered at any time lay on the tray table, quickly whisked off by the nurse who did not want to tempt Hubby with food he could not eat. The rest of his stay was uneventful, and I was called to come pick him up in the morning.  When discharged, he was taken down to a lounge complete with healthy drinks, fruit, crackers and toast, none of which he could eat because he was on a liquid diet. I drove up to the door and he was assisted to the car, feeling much better, and relieved the stay was so pleasant.