For the better half of my early 20s, I was Bubble Girl. When I found out I had leukemia at 22 my world suddenly dwindled to four white walls, a hospital bed, fluorescent lights and a thicket of tubes and wires connecting me to an IV pole.
One thing I thought of, I call it By Sea, By Land, By Foot. It’d be a 100-mile paddle, a 100-mile run, and a 100-mile bike, back-to-back-to-back. But I don’t want to end up in the hospital.
I had a head injury when I was living in England; I was in the hospital for three days, and they didn’t even ask for my name. I spent three days in there. And then, when I was done, I just got up and left. I wasn’t a British citizen; I was there on a work permit.
My dad was a doctor, and he would tell us a lot of nasty, funny stories from the hospital. It was funny to me when I’d go over to other people’s houses and they didn’t talk about intestines at the table.
When I was in college, I worked at a state hospital that was a dumping ground for all manner of the criminally insane and ‘mental defectives’ as they called them back then. It was a horrible place, like Arkham, mostly in terms of total neglect of the inmates, so I wanted to write an Arkham story.
With the Australian Government paying more of the hospital bills, it will have the incentive to make sure people are treated through less expensive and more appropriate primary care services.
Rick Santorum is the grandson of a coal miner. His dad was the manager of a V.A. hospital.
For the tiny percentage of people who are negatively affected by our embracing of standards, they can just get their sports somewhere else in the meantime. It’s not like we’re denying them hospital care.
We were taught North Korea is a heaven. They told us how people in western countries die in hospital or have no money to study in school.
I am about to get involved with the biggest cancer hospital in Norway. They are building a fitness center to work with patients. I will be a consultant.
If I wanted a circus ringmaster, I’d hire Trump. If I wanted advice on brain surgery or hospital management, I’d turn to Carson. Fiorina would make an articulate television pundit. But for president?
I was in a mental hospital. That’s all I wanna say. I don’t wanna say anything more.
As soon as I got the Nobel Prize my back collapsed and I was in hospital.
People end up on the street for many different reasons – leaving care or hospital, problems with debt, unemployment, mental health, family breakup – and so the help they need is varied, too.
In a psychiatric hospital, a lot of people believe that people on TV are talking to them directly through the screen. I’m with about 500 of these people, and I’m on TV every Friday night. As I was queuing up for breakfast one morning, one guy nearly jumped out of his skin. My first thought was to go ‘Woooo!’
Stan Hansen was a different ballgame. I broke my neck wrestling him in Madison Square Garden. I spent a month in the hospital and for a while it was touch and go because the doctors told me I came within a millimeter of being paralyzed from the neck down.
I just had that conversation this morning with my doctor. I just got back from the hospital a half-hour ago, and nothing will make me happier than to replicate the DNA of my amazing husband. I’m optimistic.
Where patient needs are complex, we should provide greater support in the community so that patients can cut down on trips to the tertiary hospital.
I been going to the hospital since I was born, about 10 times a year, for about a week or two each time.
Sometimes, patients with serious mental illness, just as with other serious medical illnesses, require hospitalization. In the absence of available public or private hospital beds, there are few options.
So I had to be the doctor to these wounded men until we could remove them to the hospital. There were fifty-four women and forty little boys with the Red Army prisoners, and I went daily to take care of them also.
I’ve had a surprising number of near-death experiences: I was nearly blown up by a landmine in Sudan; I was stranded on the Zambezi river at night; I was bucked off a rodeo horse in Arizona and had to be airlifted to hospital; and, worst of all, I once ate a Pot Noodle.
Hospitals should be paid to keep patients out of the hospital, not for signing up more and more patients.
After the Spanish Civil War against Franco, a group of us got together: a group of well-to-do people who were sympathetic to the lost cause of a Republican state. We bought a convent in Toulouse and converted it into a hospital run by the Unitarians. It took care of the Spanish refugees who fled to Toulouse.
Through the care of the Samaritan’s Purse and SIM missionary team in Liberia, the use of an experimental drug, and the expertise and resources of the health care team at Emory University Hospital, God saved my life – a direct answer to thousands and thousands of prayers.
You can’t write a story about a mental hospital in the United States without facing the grand example of ‘Cuckoo’s Nest.’
I’m pretty cautious and not very athletic, so I’ve only had really dumb injuries, like sprained ankles and allergic reactions. I did have to go to the hospital after slicing my finger while trying to cut a Kaiser roll in half.
I don’t share photos of people grieving leaving a funeral or outside of a hospital when a loved one is sick… You can do your job and have an opinion and have it be strong, but not be hurtful or cruel.
When I started, it was all meter maids or the sassy nurse, or the sassy receptionist in the hospital. And I felt like: Are those the only jobs that large, black women have?
Sophomore year, I got hit in the stomach playing football, and I was out of school for four months. I was in the hospital for two and then out of school for two.
Lithium prevents my seductive but disastrous highs, diminishes my depressions, clears out the wool and webbing from my disordered thinking, slows me down, gentles me out, keeps me from ruining my career and relationships, keeps me out of a hospital, alive, and makes psychotherapy possible.
I don’t think I can do this – painting under observation. It’s the worst thing there is, worse than being in the hospital.
Who would have thought that the girl who was forced to go to the hospital because she’s so skinny would one day be called too fat?
A hospital is no place to be sick.
You know, 97 percent of the time, if you come into a hospital, everything goes well. But three percent of the time, we have major complications.
My father was a doctor in Moravia, in the south of the country. There were a number of Jewish doctors in the hospital there, and at a certain point – almost too late, really, but in time – they were all sent overseas by their employer.
The hospital has adjusted itself in response to Covid-19, the influx of patients. So walking into the hospital, you immediately realize that you’re playing a different ballgame.
Giving birth was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. I’d been living in a Third World country, and I said, ‘I’m going to just squat behind a tree.’ I basically did that but in a chair in my living room. I didn’t want a sterile hospital room. I didn’t want doctors. I had a midwife.
The answer was that in Burundi, having a clean bill of health has taken on a very particular meaning: unless and until you have paid for your hospital treatment, you simply can’t leave, you are in effect a captive.
I have been given such a wonderful opportunity, and I want to share that with people. If I can share that with kids in hospital, then that seems like the right thing to do.
First need in the reform of hospital management? That’s easy! The death of all dietitians, and the resurrection of a French chef.
I was injured by an enemy hand grenade in Afghanistan in 2010. I spent three years recovering at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center… And through that three years, I was forced to search for the silver linings during the long dark and painful nights and days in the hospital.
Today many Caribbean workers can be found in the hospital, construction, service and hotel industries, but there is also a growing professional sector.
Really, I like the future. I appreciate my automatic alarm-call necklace in case I get lost and confused in a mall. I appreciate the watch that tells the hospital my blood pressure’s gone ballistic. I like my computer, just as long as it doesn’t get ideas above its workstation.
Acting is one such profession where, unless you are admitted to the hospital, you have to continue to shoot even if you are injured or ill.
I wanted to be a doctor. I was pre-med at school, and I actually even took the MCAT. My ultimate decision was that I didn’t love the work environment in a hospital.
I saw firsthand the impact of women’s efforts inside and outside the home from watching my wonderful mother, Nancy. A nurse who trained at Hopkins, she balanced the demands of raising our family with her work at our rural hospital on the Eastern Shore.
When a hospital is very crowded, there will be a real push to make sure people get their X-rays, get their tests and, you know, ‘Let’s get them out in four days’.
I went to Vietnam during the Vietnam War to visit all the troops. We would fly into a hospital and serve mess to the guys, and we ate whatever they were eating. Then we slept there and flew out the next day to little bases where there were maybe 10 or 20 guys. Then we flew to another hospital.
