Sergio Carracedo 
I want to clarify beforehand that this entry is not intended to be some nonsense that puts the psychological part ahead of the medical; if it seems that way at any point, I’ve written it very poorly 😂
For various reasons, since I was a child I have had to be hospitalized several times, and that has allowed me to see the evolution of hospital operations and patient care from the patient’s point of view.
With my recent long hospital stay (from August 31st to October 15th) due to the lymphoma I am still recovering from, I have had plenty of time to see patient care again and compare it with my other experiences. During this stay, I was assigned to 3 services: pulmonology, internal medicine, and oncology, on two different floors of the hospital, and with different nursing and medical teams.
I can do nothing but shower with praise all the people I have dealt with throughout this hospital (and extra-hospital) process: assistants, nurses, and doctors (including residents). All of them have made my stay in the hospital and the medical process itself easier.
There has only been one exception, which reminds me of the treatment given before, but I will talk about that treatment a bit later.
On the medical side, at all times the doctors tried to make sure that I, as a patient, understood the processes they were going to perform: how they were going to be, the purpose, the risks, etc. Not just to complete the Informed Consent but so that I really understood it.
Initially, my prejudices made me expect a different treatment in oncology, something more paternalistic, but nothing could be further from the truth. 0 paternalism, 0 drama, calling things by their name, or at least without beating around the bush. And from minute 0 they made it clear to me that they were going to tell me everything and that no one was going to lie to me about anything; this leads me to think that in the past this was done (not telling the patient the reality), I suppose with the intention of not adding psychological pressure, anxiety, or who knows what.
I want to make this very clear:
From my point of view, you have to have absolute trust in the medical team (I do) and to achieve that you cannot be thinking about whether what they tell you is sugarcoated or does not fit reality
There cannot be the slightest doubt, because as we say here in Galicia: a cabeza non para (the head doesn’t stop), and if you enter that loop of doubt, you enter a dangerous zone.
In my case, since from the first moment I showed curiosity about my illness and the treatment, one of the oncologists—the one who took care of me on the ward at the beginning and now follows up and schedules the treatments—even told me what to search for on the internet, and I tell you it is a wonderful exercise, because it is not searching for the sake of searching, but a search guided by a doctor. For example, during the first chemo cycle (it wasn’t a full cycle, just Rituximab and cyclophosphamide) they told me we had to monitor the amount of urine because they were giving me 4 liters of saline, and I would have to urinate a similar amount to avoid Tumor lysis syndrome, and she herself told me: “search for Tumor lysis” and that’s what I did 😜
For me, knowing what is happening to me is extremely important, because it helps me get a realistic idea of the situation without letting the subconscious imagine or invent things.
Gone are the days (which I experienced firsthand during other hospital stays) where a group of people would enter, who theoretically were your doctor with some residents, and with luck they would ask you how you were and then talk among themselves (about you), and they would turn around and leave. The end. Nothing about explaining what they were going to do to you or anything like that; with luck, the nurses would explain it to you later.
As for the nursing team and assistants, more of the same, exquisite treatment that made day-to-day life easier and more comfortable; the attention to making sure you were well and without pain is total.
As an example, one of my biggest “hang-ups”: the fear of needles; it’s not a very big fear, but it does generate tension knowing they are going to prick me. Since I started this process, I must have been pricked to draw blood or place an IV about 40-50 times if not more; in none of them have they hurt me, and I must admit that this makes me lose that fear of needles (not entirely).
I’m sure the experience of others is not the same, or not even similar, but I can also tell you that if you behave rudely with the people who care for you, don’t expect them to treat you like a king; they won’t treat you badly, but certainly don’t expect them to do more than they should for you. I saw that with a roommate who was quite despotic with the nurses and assistants.
The thing about roommates in a hospital is worth writing a lot about, maybe one day I’ll get around to it. 😉