It’s been said that a hospital is an awful place to get sick.
That used to be how I felt.
Then I recently spent a night in the hospital with my wife.
There was the typical restus-interruptus in the evening, with seemingly everyone on the floor poking their head in, checking, emptying, adjusting. The missus had the particular pleasure of sleeping with leg cuffs.
They sounded alternately like a tractor-trailer applying a Jake brake and an old man snoring.
But overall, the care and accommodations were extraordinary.
The food was edible and the public bathrooms smelled of Christmas trees.
Nurses were polite and attentive and appeared non-allergic to human interaction. One even engaged us in a conversation about our kids.
Most impressive was the bedside manner of the doctor.
When she entered the room, instead of standing at the foot of the bed and intimidating the patient, she dropped to her level.
For the first time in my life, I saw a physician who actually sat down and leaned into her patient, speaking slowly in a language we could understand.
It was comforting.