I'm okay with the uncomfortable chairs, the overwhelming, asthma-inducing smell of clean, the bad magazines, the machines that go ping!... all of that.
I'm not even terribly irritated by the color-coded patient tracking system thoughtfully set up for us loved ones wanting to know whether a patient is out of surgery yet - thought it would have been nice if they had bothered to use the colors defined in the provided key, instead of highlighting my father's entry in an eye-bleedingly bright shade of cyan that, for all I know, could have meant "patient appears to have been abducted by aliens, trying to work out how to tell the family".
But for goodness' sake, wash the coffee out of the coffee pot before using it to offer hot water for tea. :|
Bonus points go to whoever decided to buy the non-dairy creamer that... contained dairy. I'm so glad to have been given the opportunity to study the inside of a hospital bathroom in such detail.
Please not that this post is not entirely serious, though all complaints are real ones. I'm exhausted and my sense of humor has gone to a very strange place.
