– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young – - Hansel and Gretel may be onto something

– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young –

Brace yourselves, it’s time for another round of my bad luck!

To begin, a quick recap: Mom had to have emergency bowel obstruction surgery in the middle of April, almost dying twice. She’s getting better, slowly, but surely and I’m glad to still have her.

Anyway, I was told, not asked, that I needed to meet her for a wound care appointment at Eau Claire Mayo Hospital, so the surgeons could make sure everything still looked good. Thankfully, the appointment was on a Wednesday, so I could make it, because Mondays and Tuesdays are out.

I was also grateful I could just go into the main entrance and not through the parking garage entrance, because parking garages and I are not friends. When Mom was on the fourth floor after surgery, that’s the entrance I had to use and when I would come out, it was anyone’s guess where I’d parked.

I ended up wandering around, clicking my key fob, so my horn would sound, just to find my car. I felt foolish doing that, until one day, I noticed a gentleman doing the exact same thing and felt better about my ineptitude. The one time, driving out, I got hopelessly turned around and my only choice, was to follow someone who looked like they could lead me outside.

Apparently, that driver did know where they were going, so confidently so, that I ended up going 40 mph in a curvy parking garage, just to keep up with them.

Anyway, on the day of this particular wound care appointment, the Mayo Bloomer Hospital said they would provide transportation for Mom, since she is still very weak and has a feeding tube port, as well as a wound vac, which cleans out the wound. Check-in was at 1:45 p.m., so I made sure to be there by 1:30.

I walked to information and told the man behind the desk why I was there. Oh, I actually needed to go to patient services (three feet away) and check in there, but when I did, it looked like we were on the fifth floor, so we’d take the elevators around the corner to the left (he pointed the way).

Three feet over, I went through the same process.

Oh, Mom hadn’t arrived yet, so I could just wait there for her, but when I did, it looked like we were on the fifth floor, so we’d take the elevators around the corner to the left (she pointed the way).

Then began my watch for Mom. By 1:48, she still hadn’t arrived and I had visions of the van crushed like a pop can on 53, between here and Bloomer, or maybe the driver had dropped her off outside the entrance and left her there, scared and alone, not knowing what to do, and maybe she would try to get out of the wheelchair and walk in, and fall and kill herself.

My imagination is a great thing – until it runs away with me. Finally, I jumped up and headed to the entryway to see if I could spot her. She was just being wheeled in by the driver, who, though nice, was a man of few (to my delight, Australianaccented) words. He handed me an arm load of things and told us to have a nice day.

A nice day? Uh, wasn’t he sticking around to transport her back to Bloomer? Well, I couldn’t worry about that now, we were already late for check-in. We went over to patient services and checked in, this time, with a different lady. All was set, but it looked like we were on the fifth floor, so we’d take the elevators around the corner to the left (she pointed the way).

There were elevators straight to the right from the information and patient services desks, but they said left, around the corner, so left, around the corner, we went. If you’ve never been to the Eau Claire Mayo, you can’t comprehend how long those hallways are. Seriously, it’s ridiculous.

I wheeled Mom all the way to the elevators almost to the CCU hall and we went up to the fifth floor. As we were getting off the elevator, a lady and her grandma were getting on, just as I told Mom that now we had to find out where to go. The lady held the door and asked where we were headed, as she was an off-duty nurse who worked there.

I told her and she shook her head. Oh, you need to go to the third floor for that. I told her that I was told the fifth floor. Nope, it’s the third, get back in here.

Um, alright...I guess. I wheeled back in and we got off at not the third, but the first floor, then had to walk quite a way to a different set of elevators, because the ones we were on, were on the wrong side of the building. When we got to the third floor, a sign said if we had checked in at patient services already, we could just have a seat.

I’m all for that, after all the walking. For some reason, the hallways are boiling, but the exam rooms are freezing cold. After about 10 minutes, I got a call on my phone, from a nurse in wound care, wondering where we were. Not in the right place, apparently.

Turns out, the appointment was on the fifth floor. So, I wheeled Mom back to the elevators, and we went up to the fifth floor and tried to check in. Oh, that’s not here. Great, of course. Thankfully, among the armful of stuff the transport driver handed me, was a paper with the name of the doctor to see, so I handed that over to three nurses.

We don’t even know who that is.

Another 10 minutes went by, and after a lengthy computer search, they figured out, yes, the appointment was on the fifth floor, but we were on the wrong side of the building. By this time, I now understood why my one co-worker spontaneously bursts into tears over things, like when she spilled water all over a hand towel and I was right there at that breaking point.

A nurse obviously saw my distress, because she kindly offered to lead us to where we needed to be. Of course, since we were on the wrong side of the building, we had to take the elevators to the first floor, walk all the way back to the patient services part of the building and take those elevators that I originally thought I should take, back up to the fifth floor.

At least you’re getting your steps in. Ha. Ha. Ha. I gave her possibly the dirtiest look I’ve ever given anyone in my life.

Hallelujah, though, we made it! Right floor, right station, right doctor – but oh, they didn’t realize Mom would be in a big non-ambulatory wheelchair, instead of a regular one, because the room is tight. What do you want ME to do about it? That was incredibly rude to say, but in my defense, I was so hot from trotting all over the building and when I get hot, I turn into a whole different person!

They ended up moving furniture out of the room and I told them about the driver just leaving. Oh, that’s not right. You think? They then left us there for 50 minutes, before a nurse came in and changed the dressing, etc. She wanted a surgeon’s opinion about leaving the wound vac off, so off she went.

Another 15 or 20 minutes went by, the surgeon came, gave the all clear. They left and another 10 minutes went by. The original nurse came back; turns out, she’d been on the phone with Bloomer that whole time, and they had no clue Mom needed a ride back to the hospital. What was she supposed to do, hitchhike?

I asked the nurse if a lot of people had the same trouble we’d had that day. Well, no, actually, not really. Mom and I exchanged a look. Luck of the Youngs strikes again!

We finally were free to go, and went back on the elevators to the first floor and met that same driver, who loaded Mom up and miraculously, she arrived, unscathed, back at her hospital room. I, on the other hand, was silently rocking myself to and fro, as I drove home.

It could be my stress level showed somewhat, when the nurse mentioned before we left, that another appointment would be needed in the near future. But, ha, ha, we could just do a telehealth session, so you don’t have to physically come here.

What a shame, I was so looking forward to my next trip there. Maybe I should go full on Hansel and Gretel, and take some bread crumbs along to leave a trail behind us. At least I’d have a snack to eat when I get lost again.