
I grew up in hospitals. My dad worked in the Emergency Room and my grandpa, who we cared for, was a “frequent flier” in the ICU due to all kinds of health complications. Therefore, it was from an early age that I grew comfortable in the sterile, anxiety-ridden place where a trip down the hall was a lesson in how hard life could be. It was there that I learned how to have one-sided conversations and keep myself occupied by drawing pictures, making visits, having lunch in the cafeteria and enjoying the lobby’s koi pond.
So it came as no surprise to anyone when I chose to work in a caring profession as an adult and found myself learning how to walk alongside people in their darkest hours, often sitting with them in hospital waiting rooms and at their bedsides. Over the years, I have learned that a lot of people are rather awkward in hospitals and are lost when a friend ends up in that small, sterile room with ice chips, Jell-O and a TV awkwardly mounted to the ceiling blaring bad soap operas and infomercials.
It’s for this reason that I’d love to offer a few pointers on how to practice the art of good hospital hospitality:
You don’t have to say something amazing. Just about the worst thing you can do is ascribe empty antidotes about how “God meant for this to happen,” or, “This will be a good thing someday.” If you are visiting a patient, just be there. Don’t fix it. By sitting with your friend and being present in the room, you’ll find your own peace and give your presence as a gift.
Don’t make someone else’s crisis about you. Any crisis will stir up memories of our own. This is normal and even can be good, but it’s best to process those emotions with someone other than your friend or family member who is currently in the midst of their own. This may sound intuitive, but it’s very normal to want to empathize through our experience. It crosses the line when we walk into a room and say, “Oh, this is just what happened to my Aunt Sue. Then Aunt Sue died, but you probably won’t die, it just reminds me of Aunt Sue.” Our tales of similar adventures should be avoided as we make a visit to comfort a friend.
Don’t pretend to be a doctor. Do you know what complaint most people have of their visitors at the hospital? Unsolicited medical advice. Everyone wants to help, but mandating a perfect remedy for what they must do isn’t helpful. There are cases where we can offer something helpful, but don’t force an approach onto anyone. Medical decisions are private, individual choices made based on a unique set of circumstances and factors. It’s always good to ask a friend if they’re looking for input before sharing, being sure to add, “Take it or leave it” if you do.
Don’t stay too long. A hospital visit should average between 15-20 minutes, unless the patient asks you to stay longer. The hospital is a place of rest and restoration, so being “on” for a line-up of visitors, no matter how important your relationship, can exhaust the patient and hinder their recovery.
Bring a gift. Flowers, balloons, a card, a soft blanket, or a great music playlist are just a few ideas. These suggestions, however, depend on the person and their recovery process. Some hospitals don’t allow flowers for some patients due to bacteria that grow in the water. Check into this first and if flowers aren’t accepted, opt for something else.
Give the primary caregiver time off. When things are tenuous or severe, a caregiver or family member often is exhausted from hours at the hospital. Offer to take a shift and stay with the patient while they go home to take a shower, eat a meal out, or just take a walk. Giving them some time to refresh will help them walk the long road of recovery alongside their loved one.
Come prepared. Think of a great story to tell from your week, bring a book to read out loud, have some cards or a small and easy game to play. If you have something to do while visiting, it may help to take some pressure off of the conversation.
Let them share the story. Sometimes it’s exhausting for the patient to re-tell their story 100 times, or it can be therapeutic for them to process their story out loud. Ask, “Would you like to share how things are going?” but be willing to say, “You don’t have to tell me, I know you’ve probably had to relive it all every time someone comes to visit.” Being sensitive to the person and their needs will always win.
Plan a homecoming visit and bring a meal. Recovery is usually long and boring. The few times I’ve been home recovering, it was a visit from a dear friend got me through the day. Also, making meals is often a chore and it can be one less thing to think about if family and friends pitch in and make a meal or two.
Organize your community. There are great online tools such as Care Calendar or Caring Bridge. Helping to organize visits, communication, prayer, and meals for a person in need of comfort can be a loving way to help someone through recovery.
How have you seen a friend or family member through time in the hospital?
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Emily D. April 19, 2016
This is superb. I’ve been the patient way too many times to count and this all rings totally true! Just a note about flowers–be sure to ask about them first. I’m a lung transplant recipient, and we are NOT allowed to have flowers on our floor at all, because they can actually be dangerous to people who are in immediate post-transplant recovery. But I always like blankets and books! 🙂
Lisa Gloster April 2, 2014
For the past 22 years I have been primary caregiver to my daughter who was born with every organ affected by birth defects. We have spent more time in the hospital than out until she was 14 and given a syndrome finally and unfortunately it is lethal and life threatening. She is at risk for an aortic root dissection. What I found most difficult in these times is either people being too afraid to come visit because she is a small child, now adult, with very serious medical conditions so I end up alone which is difficult , or other family members who haven’t been with us the 2 hours away at children’s hospital begin questioning why or what things are being done. It can be a rough time when family does come up because they want me to leave to the point of trying to force me to leave or eat what they want me to eat and question why she or I nap at the hospital. Frustrating and not getting better unfortunately now that she is beginning palliative care. Her bio father is not involved at all and my husband entered her life when she was 11 but I end up arguing to be asserting my choices for the child I gave birth to and spent all these years caring for. It’s all just a mucky mess, and gets worse once we get home.
Tiffany April 1, 2014
This is good advice. I think one of the challenges in observing other people go through suffering is that we don’t know how to deal with ambiguity or silence. We try to fill the spaces and fix a situation that is unfixable, or make a situation seem better when the situation really just sucks, anyway you slice it. In my limited experience, it’s helpful to simply be there, to listen if they want to talk, and provide support and a hug if they want it, and definitely take care of the small things that they may not have the mental energy to tackle, like laundry or making copies of class notes or whatever.
Kristie Christie April 1, 2014
Yes, I think you hit the nail on the head. I don’t think we do know how to sit in the awkwardness of our pain without trying to rush to a conclusion. If it was music we were talking about, we’d be talking about a bunch of dissonant notes…ones we want to see resolve…and suffering usually is unresolved much longer than we’d like. I like that, class notes!
Leslie Musser April 1, 2014
As someone who is also a doctor’s daughter, I have grown to feel a difficulty about visiting hospitals. When I was younger it was fascinating and scientific; now that I have gained life experience, I associate those wards with unhappiness and discomfort. These words are humbling and inspiring. They call us to abandon self-interest and willingly care for others.
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Kristie Christie April 1, 2014
Hi there! I’m so glad you found the article to be helpful. I don’t think your experience is unusual, my brother doesn’t like hospitals…while they don’t bother me. I think you’re right that it is good to try and push through that anxiety…however I think being a “you’re home!!! I’m here to give you a break from TV!” always has its place! 🙂