A hospital is not a hotel. This is not a complicated concept, but for some reason I didn’t get it. I have no idea why, but I was expecting hotel-like amenities during my hospital stay. Maybe I was anticipating a less medical experience because I didn’t consider myself “sick?” I’ve only been in a hospital on one occasion, and then just as a visitor for an hour, so I guess I wasn’t really aware of how they operated.

After delivering the Trikester at 2:22 AM, my first thought was, “I’m famished! Let’s order room service!” Mr. Tricycle had to break it to me that hospitals don’t do room service. The cafeteria was closed, and I’d have to wait for breakfast to get a meal. We had bananas, granola bars, and coconut water, but I really wanted a cheeseburger and fries.

We did eat some great meals during our stay – Wegman’s grocery store makes a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner that we devoured for lunch on Thursday

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When we finally made it to our recovery room at 5:00 AM, I was (still) hungry, and exhausted. Other than a cheeseburger, the only thing I wanted was sleep. I was not expecting visitors every thirty minutes. Where was the “Do Not Disturb!” sign for our door? People constantly stopped in to take the baby’s temperature, check my butt for hemorrhoids, drop off paperwork, etc. I should have expected this. As people pointed out on the boards – I was at a hospital – medical professionals were just doing their jobs – I had no right to be grumpy about the interruptions.

Mr. Tricycle’s bed. Poor guy.

Another misconception was the hospital’s devotion to personal comfort. In my fantasy, we’d have a cushy double bed so we could cuddle as a family. That was far from the case – I had a narrow, standard-issue hospital bed wrapped in plastic and Mr. Tricycle had a folding vinyl chair that tried to eat him on multiple occasions. We had to ask for sheets and a pillow, and it took a couple hours to get them. The accommodations were great for hygiene and economy, but not so much for comfort.

People on the boards talked about all the great free stuff they got to take home from the hospital. They weren’t handing out the goodies during my stay. In fact, the nurse told me that each patient was only allotted two pairs of the infamous mesh underwear. If a woman needed more, they were expected to wash them out in the sink. Huh? What? I was grateful to have packed my own shampoo and soap; I was thinking there’d be freebies like a hotel, and only threw it in at the last minute. No gratis toiletries at our hospital – I even felt bad asking for a second towel for Mr. Tricycle.

Just like a hotel, I expected the hospital to have free TV. What else are sick people supposed to do? Apparently it’s not considered an “essential;” to watch the football games on Thanksgiving, we paid a connection fee of $3.50, and then a daily charge of $5.00.

I’m being picky; my room wasn’t comfortable and there weren’t any amenities, but I received wonderful care and can’t complain about any of the professionals we worked with. Ultimately, the health and safety of myself and the Trikester were the number one priority, and on that account, our stay was exemplary.

How was your hospital stay? Was it plush or bare bones?