With the glaring exception of a select few of my child-rearing techniques, I do not like to scare people. As a general rule, I derive great personal and professional satisfaction from helping people to feel comfortable, at ease, and in control, especially in situations where one’s health (or a loved one’s health) is concerned. There are a few books out there that give advice for people who are hospitalized, and those books tell miscellaneous stories of people who have had very negative experiences.
I don’t know about you, but when I am embarking upon an unfamiliar course, one where there are risks, I don’t want to read about the horrible things that have happened to other people in my position. I certainly want to know how to keep myself as safe as possible within given circumstances, and I want to familiarize myself with my surroundings, understand the culture, and understand some of the basic language of my environment, but I don’t want to be submerged in the details and drama of the worst possible outcomes of my situation, especially when I may not be able to control the fact that I am in that particular situation to begin with. This is in no way to say that I want to put my head in the sand and ignore the fact that there is risk, but I want to face the risk in a positive way, actively participating in the optimization of the outcome of my particular situation.
Fear sells. Tears sell. But I intend for my book to guide readers the way I would like to be guided. “Your Hospital Guide” is written to give you insider’s perspective and guidance in a place where you might otherwise feel lost or out of your element. Blog entries in the “Your Hospital Guide” category will give you tastes of this book, with bits of information and direction that I hope you will find useful. Please let me know through your comments what you think. And here’s hoping that you will eventually read the whole book, and that you will only rarely, if ever, need it.