Hospitals are weird places. I've been a few of them and they're all designed in a style that might be called Neo-Post-Classical Maze. There are bunches of interconnected buildings with elevators in seemingly random places that take you to other floors where you may not be able to re-access the building you came from.

The main thing you need to know about these buildings is that they are named after people who give lots and lots of money to the hospitals. If you only give lots, but not lots and lots, you may end up like the 3 families, all of whom have cath labs names after them in a Cath center named after someone else in an interventional cardiology wing named after someone else on a floor named after someone else in a building named after someone else. I actually know something about this (note the name of the pavilion), and I'm completely serious. The naming stuff is cutthroat. In buildings like this, only the hand sanitizers aren't named.

And the frigging places stay busy all the time. Even at 11, it takes several stops on the elevators to go a few floors down from where my lovely pseudo hotel room is to the patient floors.

Hospital room disguised as a hotel room

The most difficult thing about dealing with hospitals is that they are incredibly complex machines with lots of moving parts, and nobody ever seems to have 100% of the necessary information. "Why don't you have the paperwork?" "The people in the last office told me I didn't need to bring the paperwork." "We can't do anything without the paperwork."

And more often than not, it's the patients who have to navigate this by themselves. It's lucky that I can be there to intercede on Ronnie's behalf, because being the patient is completely overwhelming by itself, so how are you suppose to sweat the details?

It's been a long day. Gotta be up 5-something. Will keep you all posted.