Hospital Nightmare in San Juan

“Yelling at my husband in Spanish won’t help him understand you. He doesn't speak Spanish,” I informed his intensive care nurse. “Habla la lengua del pais.” She angrily said to me as my husband held his head.

“Why are you holding your head, does it hurt?” she shouted like she was taking to a deaf man. My love thrashed in pain, just hours after a femoral bypass operation. “Time to go, now,” Nurse Maria barked at me. I pleaded with the angry young nurse to let me see my husband relax after receiving his pain medication who said she would have to call security if I didn't leave NOW. My seventy year old darling became agitated. He pulled at his gown and bed clothes. My heart ached to stay with my husband of forty-five years, until he was comfortable again.  

This woman, who seemed intelligent and efficient, told me to get out so she could do her job. She would not give his medication until I left. My husband kicked reflexively with the leg she told him to hold still. She again ordered him in Spanish to not move his leg. She ordered me out in Spanish with un-called for vehemence.

Did she take offense because I told her that my husband needed to be elevated in bed? The foot of the operated leg was pushed against the foot of the bed. His toes have turned black since his admission to this hospital. I can only imagine that dying toes hurt on a good day let alone the day he has surgery on that leg.

I treat the staff with courtesy and respect. The floor nurses in the ten days he’s been in the hospital have been amiable. Some of them have had difficulty with English. I speak as much Spanish as I know. I like the language, looking forward to becoming proficient. We worked it out amicably. The surgical floor staff was wonderful to us.

The SICU nurse’s lack of compassion caused me worry for my honey’s well being. I sensed her competence at her job, but she lacked empathy. I told her I had to bring in her patient’s snore machine. His surgeon specifically said he wanted him to use it. I walked out to the car to get it, when I returned. No one answered the bell. It was after hours, but they knew I was coming back with it. I had to walk back to the other building in the emergency department to have someone call to get her to come to the door of SICU to take the machine. I wished her a good evening. Have a good night while taking care of my love.  She was working until 6 am she said before. She replied something in Spanish as she grabbed the bag.

I honor that Puerto Rico is a Spanish speaking country. I am learning the language, but the VA Hospital in San Juan is still a federal facility and my husband is still a veteran.