Some good friends of ours are taking a well-deserved vacation this week and they came to our aid when I was going through my little health crisis in ways that most will never know. I’m not sure that the hubby would function well without these good buddies.

They own a business that is largely coin-operated and thus, we were honored and grateful to have an opportunity to return the favor and collect, count and deposit the proceeds from their business this week. Most of the coins are quarters and so, the youngest, the hubby and I were all sitting at the kitchen table today sorting, wrapping and recording the amounts collected. Let’s just say it was a good week for their business. 🙂 Here’s what I learned along the way:

1. People must put quarters in mud, grease, oil, garbage cans, and on the dirty backsides of babies before using them to pay for stuff.
2. My fingers now smell and look like all the aforementioned of # 1.
3. I used to think the backsides of babies were cute.
4. I need a manicure now.
5. I may need industrial strength steel wool to get my hands clean again.
6. My index finger gets sore after wrapping $ 1000 worth of quarters.
7. I wrap faster than the youngest. Yay! One thing I can do faster than the next generation. Somehow I don’t think they care.
8. I am quarter counting machine challenged. And all it requires is cranking a handle.
9. My self-esteem has plummeted.
10. If I want to lose my hearing, sit next to the hubby cranking quarters through a metal machine. Hello, quiet plastic????
11. I will be dreaming of orange quarter wrappers, 50-state themed quarters, George Washington, and eagles tonight. Thank God that Benjamin Franklin did not get his way to make the national bird a turkey.
12. # 11 will not be in a good way. And now I’ll probably be dreaming about Ben and turkeys, as well. *sigh*
13. The hubby and I used to think that such a coin-operated business might be a good retirement venture for us. Now I’m thinking battling pit vipers is looking much better.
14. I consume my weight in tortilla chips, water, and slices of ham when counting quarters.
15. I need a bottle of extra strength Tylenol, maximum strength ibuprofen, and my migraine meds for #10.
16. When running out of wrappers, find your garage sale cash box. Yessssss! 32 more quarter wrappers and a pile of dollar bill wrappers. Oh. Wait. More wrapping and machine cranking. Boo.
17. I don’t think “bank teller” is in my future as my next vocation.
18. The worst thing you could do for a hurting index finger is type a new post for your blog. My keyboard is now dirty. See # 1. Ick.
19. I may have to use another finger for the next round of coin wrapping. I think it should be my tallest finger. How about you? It’ll reach farther into the wrapper to straighten out quarters, right?
20. If you really believe my reasoning for # 19, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I’d like to sell you. And no, you can’t pay for it in quarters.

You might also like: Lessons Learned from Completing a Hospital Survey, Lessons Learned from Recuperating, Lessons Learned from Heart Attacks 3 & 4

Directions: Submit the best answer for each survey question  in the Comment box at the bottom of your screen. Thank you for your feedback. It will ensure better care for our current and future patients.

1. When treating you for 2 heart attacks, do you prefer:

a. That we endlessly ask you your prehistoric birthdate
b. That we use you as our own personal pin cushion
c. That we bump you down the main thoroughfare of your town on a gurney at 1 am
d. That we call you “Mrs. Hook” during your Care Flite

2. When arriving at the heart catheterization lab, do you prefer:

a. To spend 20 minutes greeting the entire team of people about to surgically cut you open
b. To receive as little anesthetic as possible so you can feel the actual incision
c. To be asked to take deep breaths during your snoozefest
d. To hear “Oops” while we look at your heart on a computer

3. While in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, do you prefer:

a. For us to re-enact World War II outside your open room door at 2 am
b. To shine bright lights in your eyes precisely when you have just fallen asleep
c. To be convinced you’re a drug addict (after a 14 year hiatus from the last morphine drip) within the first 24 hours of your arrival
d. To ask you to use a bedpan with knives protruding from the seat

4. How was your level of pain controlled?

a. I was comatose until I was out of pain. Rip Van Winkle had fitful sleep by comparison.
b. I vaguely recall being hospitalized and someone calling me Mrs. Hook.
c. I would have slept but it sounded like the re-enactment of World War II outside my door.
d. When did you get the bedpan with knives on top???

5. How courteous and polite were your nurses?

a. I felt like Kate, minus the baby bump.
b. I felt like Zuckerberg’s wife.
c. I felt like Paula Deen.
d. I felt like the bottom of an urban dumpster.

6. How long did your discharge take?

a. Tom Cruise (while in his Top Gun fighter jet) discharged me.
b. Marco Andretti discharged me.
c. Grandma Moses painted an entire gallery of million dollar art while I waited for discharge.
d. Snails have moved faster.

7. If you were to improve one area of our operation, what would it be?

a. Quit employing vampires for lab technicians.
b. Stop asking you survey questions that raise your blood pressure.
c. Empty that bedpan more than every 48 hours.
d. Cease to refer to the procedural routine of the hospital as an “operation.”

8. How was your follow-up care after your discharge?

a. I can’t get any sleep because I keep getting phone surveys from your “operation.”
b. I have repeated nightmares about being an addict.
c. It only took 7 weeks to make my 2 month check-up appointment.
d. I am Kate. Maybe I do have an addiction?

You might also like: Lessons Learned from Completing a Hospital Survey, This I Just Can’t Resist,Lessons Learned from Heart Attacks 3 & 4

1. Don’t start by counting how many questions you have to answer.
2. There were 86 questions.
3. Many of the questions were redundant, so we killed trees for nothing.
4. The paper was heavy weight…more trees gone.
5. Read all of the questions first before answering any of them.
6. The regular nursing staff got a better rating than they deserved because of # 5 and using an ink pen. You’re welcome.
7. If you can skip certain sections if they don’t apply to you, all of them will apply to me. See # 2.
8. They still think I only visited their hospital once. I guess the 2^nd time I was a mirage? I’ll remember that when it’s time to pay the 2^nd set of bills.
9. My doctor’s nurse thinks the same thing. See # 8.
   
10. The helicopter evacuation team thinks the same thing. See # 8.
11. They don’t make an answer choice for what I really think.
12. They’re too scared to make an answer choice for what I really think.
13. In reality, no one has ever thought up my particular answer choices. Or survey questions, for that matter.
14. # 13 makes me smile…rather sadistically. I feel a post coming on…
15. If they don’t want my actual opinion, they should not provide blank lines after the questions.
16. The first 25 questions are from the U.S. government. Based on watching my parents deal with retired military medical care from the U.S. government, I think I can state pretty definitively that the answers to those 25 questions will be ignored.
17. Based on # 16, I think I can safely say that hospital operations are probably going to get worse after answering their questions.
18. I can actually hear my taxes going up, because of # 16 and # 17.
19. The redundant questions? Yeah, those were from the U.S. government. See # 18.
20. I’m all out of opinions, except that I am still smiling sadistically. See # 14.

Tomorrow’s Post: MaryAnn’s Hospital Survey…..bwahahahhaha

You might also like: Lessons Learned from Recuperating, Lessons Learned from Heart Attacks 3 & 4, Lessons Learned from the “Woman’s” Exam Day