Bistro 5

My brother was rushed to Danbury Hospital after suffering a traumatic brain injury as a result of a car accident. Simply put, the care he received while inpatient was exceptional. We are beyond grateful to the whole team, especially Dr. Sanderson who performed emergency brain surgery. We can never thank you enough!

Now I know this review is a long time coming but even though I don’t always feel satisfied with Danbury hospital I have to give them five stars because they literally saved my life in March of 2019! I was rushed there by ambulance when I had a stomach blockage and the surgical team operated twice. I am forever grateful to them for that. One thing I didn’t like about the ER, however, was when I showed up a few months later with an excruciating bruise on my foot the doctors didn’t want to give me anything more than a Tylenol! That wasn’t sufficient to take away the pain which lasted a few days after that. Overall, I do recommend this hospital but if you’re having elective surgery I personally think the hospitals in Manhattan are still probably better.

Of the three times I was in the behavioral unit and the one time I went for emergency sutures, none of them were anywhere near satisfactory experiences. The first time I went, I was barely 13. I was sent to the behavioral unit, most likely the worst place in the hospital. I was placed in a small white room with a chair and a bed, which was stained. The 200lb security guard threatened to sedate me because I was crying and annoying him. 8 hours after I got to the hospital, I was told that a doctor couldn’t meet with me and I had to stay until tomorrow. (I arrived at 1pm, it’s not like it was a bad time). Never once did they consider moving me to a room where I, barely 13 years old, would feel more safe. The next morning, a doctor met with me THROUGH A VIDEO CALL. I left the next morning deeply traumatized and unable to sleep on my own bedsheets for months because they reminded me of the hospital bed. The second time, it took around 9 hours for anybody to meet with me (this time made a little more sense because it was midnight when I got there), I was 14 at this time. Once again I was talked to for very little time (30 or so minutes) before being notified I would be transferred to a different hospital. The third time I was also 14. This time, I was told that I didn’t have to stay in the psych ward room because I already had deep trauma. However, I was later still forced into one. A nurse didn’t care a bit when I was shaking from pure terror, she said I was acting immature and irrational. The only good thing was that because of the textophobia I developed towards hospital gowns (literally caused by my past two hospital stays), I didn’t have to wear one of the gowns. There was a woman who came in shortly after me screaming and kicking. She screamed and snored for maybe an hour or two. I was lower on the priority list than her, even though I came in before her and I was just 14, which is really insane. My mother had to force the staff to meet with me so I didn’t have to wait overnight, which I luckily didn’t have to do. Did I mention that over these three stays, there was no entertainment? None at all? There were TVs in some rooms, but there is only one remote that I never even knew existed because nobody mentioned it to me. The nurses and guards told me to just “wait it out”. For 8+ hours. One stay I was lucky enough to bring a book, but I obviously finished it pretty quickly. I resorted to counting in my head to pass the time. My one other stay was for emergency sutures. I came into the emergency room bleeding from my arm and yet I was told to wait for maybe 30 minutes - even though I couldn’t even move two of my fingers (which are still damaged to this day, I believe I nicked a nerve). When I was finally looked at and told I needed sutures, I was moved to another room and forced to wait a couple hours for a doctor to come in. During that time a security guard was supposed to monitor me, but he left halfway through because his shift was up. Nobody else came to watch me. Getting the sutures was ok, thankfully. This was most likely my best experience, but that isn’t saying much. Now I am going to be 16 in March, and my stays here still haunt me. I am going to a therapist to deal with the trauma that this hospital has caused me. I have developed Textophobia and cry at the touch of a hospital gown. Ambulances give me terrible feelings, I don’t know how long it will take before I can ever go inside one again - which is problematic if I ever get hurt and need transportation. I disassociate very often, especially late at night, because of the sleepless nights I have had to endure here. I wouldn’t send my worst enemy here, even for a minute. I could go on forever about how this hell-stricken place has ruined my life - nobody deserves this kind of experience. No matter what is going on, please, I beg of you, don’t go to Danbury Hospital. What these “doctors” did to me when I was a struggling 13-14 year-old was abhorrent, sadistic, and cruel. I hope that by telling this story, even just one person can be spared from this hell.