I live in West Ghent. If anyone out there knows anything about Ghent, he/she probably pictures quaint, old neighborhoods, the Naro Cinema, sidewalks filled with hospital scrub-wearing pedestrians, hipsters hanging out on apartment balconies, and gay men walking their Pomeranians. Okay, so maybe you have to live here to know some of that stuff. At the very least you should be aware of Sentara Norfolk General.
Sitting adjacent to Children's Hospital of the King's Daughters (CHKD), Sentara Heart Hospital, and Eastern Virginia Medical School (EVMS), the facility is apparently one of the higher ranked hospitals in the country.
Not more than a couple of blocks from my house, this hospital is the site of my son's birth and subsequent four-week stay in neonatal intensive care (he was a preemie). Needless to say I have spent a good deal of time on the Sentara campus and I have some interesting observations/experiences to share from my time there.
1. First, the cafeteria is decent.
As far as cafeterias go, the one at Norfolk General isn't half bad. While my wife spent a few days recuperating from her pregnancy, I had some time to learn this first hand. Sure, it's the junk food that I enjoyed most (pizza, hamburgers, pie, cake), but you gotta hand it to them for serving real, edible, wouldn't-regret-paying-real-money-for-it food. Can't say as much for my college cafeteria most of the time.
To give you a good idea of the cafeteria's food quality, I actually considered using my not-yet-expired parking pass and badge to sneak in there for a midnight snack after my son was discharged. Crazy, huh?
2. The janitors are serious about their floors.
One night (in the wee hours) I went up to the hospital to visit my son in the nursery. This being a very large campus with a complex system of hallways connecting multiple buildings, I prided myself on the route that I ultimately chose to make my way to this nursery on a daily basis. Unfortunately, on this particular night, one hallway on my route was populated by a few janitors and a wax n' scrubber. I stopped dead in my tracks. "How on earth would I get to the nursery?" I could think of no alternative route. This daily trek had been so engrained in me psychologically that I couldn't fathom there being additional routes to my destination. An uncomfortable silence commenced.
I must've looked like one of those old people at restaurants when they discover the eatery doesn't offer "senior coffees": both betrayed and terribly confused. Suddenly, something took hold of me and I continued walking on the empty side of the hallway past one buffering janitor with a newfound determination. "Hey! Stop!" another janitor lounging in a folding chair shouts urgently. "This hallway's closed." At this point I was already halfway through the corridor and the next corridor hadn't even been cleaned yet. "Why can't he just let me through?" I thought.
I then got really annoyed--mostly because of how foolish I had looked this whole time. "I don't know of any other way to get where I'm going," I said curtly. He then asked where I was headed. When I answered, he pointed down a hallway to the right of me and gave some direction or other. I thanked him and continued down this strange hallway. It was a scene out of one of them horror stories where Mr. Soon-To-Be-Machete-Fodder pulls up to an old, creepy man sitting in a rocking chair on his front porch and asks for directions. I certainly felt like I was being played.
I'm not quite sure how, but this corridor (which seemed like it was used mostly for maintenance) took me back around where I had already been--adding an additional ten minutes to my journey before finally spitting me out where I needed to be.
Maybe that particular hallway was especially important. The next day when my wife and I visited, we noticed a smashed ice cream cone (no doubt from the cafeteria) on the floor of another corridor. The thing sat there for at least an hour (from the time we arrived to the time we left) and we saw various non-medical staff members walk by it without doing a thing. Maybe janitors have strict labor rules regarding smashed cones.
3. The Sentara Heart Hospital Courtyard
Before we perfected our route through the heart hospital and into Norfolk General's main building, my wife and I used a system of corridors that took us past the heart hospital's courtyard. A quint little spot for meetings and lunch breaks, this area at the heart of the heart hospital (pun obviously intended), features lush greenery and shady trees. It also seems to have an unfortunate pest problem...
I know the above sign is certainly a reasonable request, but for some reason every time I walked past it, I couldn't help but chuckle. I suppose I pictured a patient out there moping around in a hospital gown getting pelted with pigeon droppings. Rather heartless of me I suppose (okay, I'll stop).
Well, I'm sure I have more stories up my sleeve for this lovely little medical complex, but those will have to wait until "Part Two." In the meantime, check out Ghent. You may like it, if only for the bars and restaurants.
Peace.
