Hospital Coffee: Apparently It’s Not Just for Drinking

Unfortunately, my mother is back in the hospital. She’s been there since last Sunday, but thankfully, she’s doing a little better every day.

Today I walked into her room and immediately smelled coffee.

Not just coffee—the room smelled like somebody had opened a tiny artisanal café next to her hospital bed.

So naturally, I asked her:

“Did you get coffee?”

“No.”

Okay…

Then I spotted this.

A coffee filter filled with a giant pile of dry ground coffee sitting on the counter.

Apparently, this is hospital-grade Febreze.

And I’ve actually seen hospitals do this before. Instead of spraying a bunch of chemical air fresheners around patients, they use coffee grounds to help fight unpleasant odors.

And considering some of the things that can happen in a hospital room…

that coffee has a very important job.

Forget Starbucks.

This is Stinkbucks.

☕ No espresso machine.
☕ No steamed milk.
☕ No $7 caramel macchiato.
☕ Just a mountain of Folgers standing between you and whatever happened five minutes ago.

And really, hospitals could probably make this even cheaper.

Go to Costco. Buy the biggest, cheapest can of ground coffee available. You don't even need actual coffee filters. Throw some grounds on a couple of paper towels and suddenly:

Room 312 has notes of Colombian roast with subtle undertones of “we're not going to discuss what happened in here.”

It works.

Instead of walking into a hospital room and immediately thinking, “Dear God, what IS that smell?”

I walk in thinking:

“Ooooooh… is there a coffee shop nearby?”

There isn't.

That's just the hospital fighting stink with breakfast.

And now I have a completely different concern:

If I stay here long enough smelling coffee…

someone better bring me a donut. 🍩☕😂

Handicap Parking: It’s Not a Suggestion, It’s a Necessity

This morning I arrived at the hospital to visit my mom. Like many mornings recently, it’s another chapter of balancing life, family, dialysis, and everything else that comes with it.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I started looking for a handicap-accessible parking spot. I have a handicap plate. Not because it’s convenient. Not because I want a closer walk.

I have one because I’m an above-the-knee amputee and I live with ESRD (End Stage Renal Disease). Some days the extra distance isn’t just a few more steps — it’s a lot more energy, more strain, and more effort.

There were no handicap spots available.

Then I noticed something.

Apparently, when the designated spots are full, someone decided the solution was simple: create their own spot.

A spot that wasn’t actually a parking spot.

Maybe they were in a hurry. Maybe they had a reason. Maybe they thought, “I’ll only be a minute.”

But here’s the thing — hospitals are one of the places where accessibility matters the most. People coming through those doors may be dealing with challenges you can see and many you can’t.

The lines, signs, and designated spaces aren’t there for decoration. They exist because someone may be walking on a prosthetic leg. Someone may be recovering from treatment. Someone may be helping a loved one while fighting their own battle.

I don’t expect special treatment. I expect people to think beyond themselves.

A little awareness and consideration go a long way.

Because one day, the spot you think doesn’t matter may be the spot you truly need.