By Sophia Yakumithis

As a college student, winter break is generally highly anticipated. The chunk of time between Thanksgiving and finals — for me, at least — is brutal, and the relief of not having to do school work for more than three weeks is euphoric.

Unfortunately, my “break” was thwarted by a visit to the hospital for my dumb chronic illness. I’m including this deeply personal information not because I want your attention or sympathy, but because going to the hospital is a walk in the park for me at this point. The timing of my need for medical attention was just particularly annoying this time around.

To lighten the mood, I decided to write a review about my week long stay in the Pediatric (I just turned 20) Gastroenterology ward at a hospital in Cleveland, Ohio, just two hours away from my hometown. If I leave Yelp reviews for AirBnbs or restaurants, why not do the same for the hospital? After all, I’ve stayed there enough times to be considered a “regular.”

The service was impeccable, with the exception of the night nurses. I’m not sure if they could help it, though, given their job was to rudely awaken me every three hours throughout the night and to ask me about my poop. I give the nurses three out of five stars; sorry day nurses, the night staff brought down the average.

Perhaps the apex of their hospitality was when I was brought not one, but THREE diet ginger ales, simply because the nurse knew I liked them and my acid reflux was Taki-level hot. Shoutout to my dude Connor for the hookup.

Also noteworthy was on Christmas Day, when “Santa,” a.k.a. probably Connor, left me a giant unicorn stuffed animal, a handmade blanket and a bag of candy. The candy nourished my father, who taunted me during my four-day-long, clear-liquids-only colonoscopy prep. Awesome.

Going off of that, the dining selection at the hospital was not necessarily ideal. Over the course of the week, I was given a push pop, three bowls of chicken broth, a constant potassium drip, half a styrofoam cup of lemon ice and five gallons of laxatives. And, of course, I had more diet ginger ale than anyone should be allowed to consume. Food doesn’t even get a rating.

To spice things up, though, the laxatives were fed to me through an NG tube — yes, a tube snaked into my stomach through my right nostril and down the esophagus. At least the nurses let me choose which nostril. However, I would not take my worst enemy dining at this establishment.

I will spare you the horrific details of my physical well being, which rivaled that of an old man with bowel issues. You can do the math. Although one nurse did tell me she was impressed by the “muscular thighs” featured on my 98-pound frame. My thighs? Five out of five. 

Overall, the week was terrible and I would not like to return. However, should your intestines be severely inflamed and malformed, this pediatric hospital in Cleveland, Ohio, will take great care of you. And your poop.