Human Needs

Regardless of the severity of their condition, there are only two things that every patient believes they need: bubblepacks and footies. Footies are hospital-issued socks with puff-paint-style tread on the bottom to prevent old people from slipping. They come in plastic-wrapped pairs. They are moderately warm, of a quality so low that they can only withstand a few washings, and a puke-brown color. Bubblepacks are plastic containers of food we keep for patients who deliver in the middle of the night when the cafeteria is closed and who have subsisted only on ice chips and popsicles for the last two days. They contain a smushed turkey sandwich on white bread, a container of applesauce, a tiny packet of pretzels, and a single packet of mayonnaise. Airplane food is drastically better.

Oddly, even if a patient is crowning, hemorrhaging, or if we are actively resuscitating their newborn, all they ever seem to want are bubblepacks and footies. I think it's related to some primal survival mechanism to seek food and warmth above all else.

I've confirmed this theory with my friends on medical-surgical floors and intensive care units. I propose an alternative hospital which dispenses no cure, treatment, medication, or advice, just bubblepacks and footies. It might be surprisingly successful.