For those of you who don’t know: the Parent Showers are where you go to shower here at the hospital when you’re kid is inpatient. It’s a lovely, spa-like experience with aromatherapy candles, hot mineral showers, fluffy white robes and complimentary shower shoes that fit just right!
No, really… it’s one-of-two over utilized and under cleaned shower/toilet/sink-in-a-rooms. Some parents are good about cleaning up their mess of water on the counter when they leave, and some aren’t. But that’s not even the basis for my rant.
This week I’ve had the pleasure of running into the same woman three times over there in the spa. Apparently She has a child here at the hospital. Apparently the rest of us are just here for the pedicures.
Day 1, 6:30am: I’m waiting patiently for one of the showers to open for about 10 minutes. I’m talking with Andy on the phone about scans, pain, Max in general. She arrives. The shower opens, I go in and shut the door. I’m still on the phone while I clean up the counter so I can set my stuff down, get my soap and toothpaste out (not provided by the spa concierge), PEE (I would like to note that I actually went pee while on the phone with my husband. Eww.), ya know – the stuff you do before getting in the shower. What’s it take? 2-3 minutes at the most. She starts knocking on the door! “Hey! Are you gonna shower or just talk on the phone?” She says in a really pleasant voice. “I am peeing!” I reply warmly, “Wait your turn. I just got in here!”
I immediately begin practicing my relaxation techniques that I learned as I waited patiently for my turn in the (freekin’) shower: breathe in breathe out. Everyone here has child in the hospital and we’re a little stressed about leaving them in their rooms alone. She is the same.
So (yes, I’m still on day one), I take my 3 minute luxury shower with the most fantastic water pressure and shower head you would ever hope to have available. I get out, start drying off and She starts knocking on the damn door again. You’ve got to be kidding. Where is that concierge? Can’t she help She? I think She had a facial appointment and didn’t want to late. Who could blame her? The facials are awesome here. I finally float out the door (I’m practically high from the indulgence I’ve just experienced) and She brushes past me with a grunt. I hope her shower was as great as mine. I deliberated on whether I should hang out and knock on the door every 60 seconds…
Day 2: read paragraph three from above and you’ll get the idea. I swear She knocked every minute until I came out. She must love those showers.
Day 3: was this morning. She wasn’t out there when I went in or came out, but paragraph 3 started to happened again with the knocking and huffing and puffing and throat clearing. I think She heard the familiar sounds of me shuffling and zipping my bath bag and made a run for it.
Can I get a flavored sparkling water to take back to my room? I feel so great.
