I learned something new today, after hearing loud moaning noises early one morning, coming from an elderly man, I of course wanted to know more. Poor man, he had been wailing and moaning painfully outside my hospital room, in the hall not far from my room. I wondered why no one was paying any attention to him, anyway it appeared that way. I instantly thought, how sad for this man, of course having no details, how was I to know differently? When you have been lying on a bed for so long, nothing to do and unable to sleep you hear everything, some you end up wishing you had not.
This was unlike most any other hospital noises I heard, I listened with the keen ear and intensity I had developed out of sheer boredom, the moaning continued and grew louder still. I had such empathy for him, he sounded so mournfully sick or was he in pain? I hoped someone would soon take care of him, the thought of anyone making such extreme noises was alarming and just didn't sit well with me. Did I empathize out of my sensitivity, or was it again my deep sense of caring? This was someone reaching out for help and not being heard, whether physically or emotionally wounded? It turned out to be both and there was more. I did care, maybe it was the mother in me, maybe I was upset to think no one was moving him or caring for him.
I waited and finally learned more of this mans story.
I told myself to take care of me for now and leave the other people and their needs to the nurses. I had to save my emotional strength, but, Ohhh, poor man, he was really making some unusually mournful noises. Again I wondered why no one had gone to him? It was getting louder, than would stop for a short time, and continue on. I reminded myself to ask to have my door shut, not to be rude, I just had enough to handle and deal with my own ongoing hospital issues concerning my health. I had to be selfish and believe this man would soon be helped and I would hear no more disturbing noises.
One of the many nurses thankfully was at last caring for him, I couldn't help but hear, "Mr. Nelson, hello, how have you been?" "What brings you back to the hospital?" More moaning from Mr. Nelson, he sounded like an older man and had quite a range of vocally distressful noises. After not much more conversation, Mr. Nelson had either been moved or was no longer in pain.
It was customary for a nurse to come in sometime during the morning hours and ask how I was doing. This was just another part of what would become what I referred to as “the drill”. When my nurse arrived in my room I had questions for her, did I dare ask? would she think it none of my business to intrude? Oh ok, I felt brave so I went ahead “I'm feeling a little better thank you”…. I dared ask, “Excuse me, I heard a lot of moaning in the hall not far from my room earlier this morning.” I hesitated, hoping I would find out what happened to poor Mr. Nelson. “Oh, you mean Mr. Nelson,” she answered, “he's a regular around here.” A regular? What did that mean? “What is a regular,” I dared ask, not having a clue to the meaning, though it didn't sound good.
“Mr. Nelson is here frequently, he will be fine for now, we know him well." I dared once again, “Why would someone want to be a regular?” I was confused, I did not know for sure what she meant, I carefully planned my question so as not to sound stupid, but stupid may get me an answer. The nurse did answer “Oh, he comes in to the hospital and after a bit of attention leaves,” I waited to hear more, it didn't sound good, “Mr. Nelson will be back, he usually returns.” I waited for her to talk, maybe I would understand more. “He is what we call a frequent flier.”
I gasped, at the same time I thought how rude of this nurse! She refers to him as “A frequent flier?” Why would he want to make repeat visits, he sounded awfully upset, and in a lot of pain. She added “Mr. Nelson, will be fine for now, he'll rest, he'll get attention, then he will leave…. only to be back when he needs some further attention, he never learns.” Ohhh, I was getting it, this man was doing something to himself, getting admitted, wanted attention, they fed him and maybe some medication or rest, then he would leave, only to return after another bad bout of what would get him re-admitted.
