Suffer in silence in the quiet ward

I HEARD someone speak of the “ghost hospital” last week. They were referring to Epworth Geelong.

My ears pricked up as I also describe the hospital that way, after my dad went through his cancer treatment there last year.

Epworth Geelong was a new and innovative hospital, pristine, clean and huge. What could be wrong with it, we thought.

Until we realised that it was empty.

The new Epworth hospital was in a place unfamiliar to me, on the outskirts of Geelong.

I remember a gallery greeted me upon entering. It was entitled “Endless Space”, the pictures were of the galaxy, black and lifeless.

This would’ve been OK, artsy even, but the bleakness of it was compounded by the lack of chatter within the hospital walls.

Dad’s room was on the fifth floor, room 504.

The pictures on the wall were beach-themed, but much like the gallery pictures there was an omission of people.

Perhaps this was to give patients the illusion of space, when they were trapped. On the oncology ward everyone was in there for the long haul. And it felt that way, drugs pumped into his veins slowly and the fear of looking at the clock was ever apparent for the days would tick over even slower. His room had a gigantic window overlooking a paddock. It should have been soothing, but there was something disarming about the fact that there were no people or cars in sight. And, the silence was deafening. The innovation of new technology in the hospital meant that touch screen tablets were used to order every meal. It was digitally savvy, the way of the future, but felt ro- botic and isolating when no one came to chat.

There’s something to be said for human interaction, especially in a place where you want your mind to be occupied from the reality of what is going on.

It was interesting that a hospital that on paper ticked every box — innovative, spacious, new — still felt to be missing something.

I realised that for me what makes a hospital bearable is patients chatting to each other and staff rushing about. It’s a difficult balance. We complain when hospital staff are so rushed off their feet they are slow getting to their patients.

But I hadn’t realised what comfort the noise of them busily going about their work provided.