I am convinced my mom signed up for the member rewards program at the hospital near her house. Something along the lines of “after three stays, the next one is free.” Or maybe they upgrade you to a suite with better food. Because she’s on stay number three, those hospital rooms are starting to get old, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind an upgrade.
Mind you, she’s not thrilled to be there again—or eager to go back for visit number four. Right now, her biggest complaint (and this comes up every time we see her) is that she’s not allowed to go to the restroom by herself. She always has to call the nurse’s station, even though she can see the restroom is right there!
But at almost 79, she tends to forget the five leads taped to her chest, the IV, the oxygen hose, and the pulse/ox monitor taped to her finger. She’d only get about a foot before coming to a dead stop and leaning forward while being held in place by the equipment. Or she’d snag a cord on the corner of the bed, and all hell would break loose.
Plus her bladder.
However, with her recent stays—complaints included—I’ve learned two things:
One, hospital rooms aren’t the same as the ones I’ve experienced in the past. Single beds. A recliner. A couch for guests. Electric shades. Tons of space. When did that happen? My friends Matthew and Fe had their twins a month early, and I was shocked at how tricked out their room was. And I do mean their room, because there was even space for Matthew to spend the night. Kudos to the architects who finally convinced hospitals that environment has as much effect as medicine.
Second, I wouldn’t mind if there really was a rewards program—particularly if my mom could rack up credits to help pay her bill. I haven’t seen an itemized hospital invoice in a long time, but I know I don’t want to see one again. Yikes. Being sick in this country has gotten quite pricey.
But could you get away with calling it a rewards program? You’re in the hospital for one reason or another—is that really a reward? We could try calling it a dealer incentive program, although that doesn’t sound right either. Granted, there are times a patient leaves with upgraded parts, so maybe I’m not far off.
Or should we just drop Jeff Bezos a note? I like to use my Amazon points to buy the occasional LEGO set. Perhaps next time someone needs a new knee or hip, they can apply their points at checkout. Anything to help bring down costs and provide a better stay.
That’s a rewards program I could definitely get behind.
