Hospital stays are never fun, unless it's for baby

An ear infection hospitalized my wife, Jenny, this week. The infection started last week Wednesday and worsened each day until she ended up in the hospital.
I’ve heard of people getting hospitalized for a wide variety of ailments, but this is the first time either of us had ever heard of an ear infection incapacitating someone. Of course, luck would have it that someone would end up being Jenny, a reluctant magnet for anything weird (including me).
After two nights of no sleep because of the pain caused by the ear infection, Jenny went to a doctor Friday and he gave her a prescription for some pain medication as well as antibiotics to treat the infection. The pain did not go away overnight and the medication ended up causing nausea, which led to dehydration. So a trip to the doctor’s office Saturday resulted in more prescriptions, which did not help as another doctor’s visit was required the following morning.
The doctor took one look at Jenny and told her she’s not going home because she was going to be admitted into the hospital. I admired the doctor’s quick decision-making process, although we would have both liked it better had it been made a day earlier so she could have been on the road to recovery a lot sooner.
Anyone who has ever stayed at a hospital knows it’s usually never a pleasant experience, even if the staff and accommodations are excellent. The simple fact exists that a hospital stay can never better the comfort of a person’s own home, and if a person is there it’s usually for a reason he or she doesn’t want to be there.
One of the only exceptions is to have a baby. The only time I’ve ever stayed overnight at a hospital was when our son, Braden, was born. I hadn’t even planned on spending the night, but a major snowstorm prevented me from going home. Although the day we had Braden was a long and tedious affair (not so much for me to my wife’s dismay, though), the two days I spent there following his birth were great.
We saw a few family members and friends, although the snowstorm prevented many from visiting us, and the nurses provided excellent instruction on the technical aspects of taking care of a baby. We had our own room with a great view and a plethora of television choices.
Best of all, the food was of the highest quality and inexpensive. The ham and swiss sandwich we had at 2 a.m. after Braden was born still rates as one of our favorite all-time meals, even if it’s something we never particularly cared for before. Three days of hospital food spoiled me, and if we lived near a hospital I told Jenny we might not even have the need to own a refrigerator.
But that experience seemed a lifetime ago when compared to Jenny’s most recent one. She did not have her own room, an ear infection is not a baby, and we learned little boys and hospitals don’t belong together, as Braden wanted to play with every button in the room to the displeasure of the nursing staff.
Even the food didn’t seem as good this time around. I had chicken fettuccini Sunday afternoon and was not impressed. I really can’t complain, though, because the price was right.
The doctors originally wanted to keep Jenny Monday night also, but changed their minds (probably to free up some bed space) later in the day. Although Jenny was still feeling pretty bad, she was more than happy to go home.
I know I’m probably the world’s worst nurse for her at home, as tending to work and Braden seem to take a priority for me, but I make killer Malt-o-Meal. That should count for something, plus the price is even better than the hospital’s.