Today marks four years since my bilateral mastectomy. On December 21, 2009 there was two feet of snow on the ground and we barely made it to the hospital. Today’s temperatures reached nearly 70⁰.
Before my mastectomy I had never been a patient in a hospital. I was proud of that record and wish I could have maintained it. Oh well, I figured, it must be just like a nice hotel, right? Maybe even better, because I was sick and they should have been extra nice to me.
Foiled again. Here are the reasons I would have much preferred to have my surgery at The W than in a hospital:
- No king size beds. Not even a queen or a double. What adult sleeps in a twin size bed?
- The sheets were definitely not 600 thread count, and the down duvet cover was nowhere to be found. No pillow menu either.
- They make you wear a uniform, a cotton gown that is of poor quality and desperately needs a zipper in the back. And no shoes. Just ugly socks with treads on the bottom. What if I had run into someone I knew? OMG.
- The rooms are brightly lit and loud and they do not believe in Do Not Disturb signs; it’s hard for a girl to get any rest.
- Room service food was not up to snuff, and I couldn’t find the concierge to make alternate meal arrangements.
- Turndown service? Only in your dreams. When I asked about a nice Godiva truffle to sweeten my dreams, they assumed I was feverish and delusional and took my temperature again.
- No spa or even a salon, so forget the massage and manicure you could have sworn you scheduled.
- No coffee pot in the room, no mini bar, no wireless service.
- I woke up missing a couple of body parts, and no one was willing to file a police report.
All in all, it’s a miracle I made it through the ordeal. I wrote a whole book about it you know. Here’s to many more years of nice hotels, and no more hospital stays!