Friday, December 4, 2015

I'm Just Here For A Shot

I've been having some back problem and my neurosurgeon has prescribed some shots into my back near the spine as part of the treatment plan. Wednesday was the day.

When I was young, there was a church brochure that talked about heaven and hell and there was a sign over the entrance to hell that said:


I think hospitals should have a sign over the door that says:

Abandon All Dignity, Ye Who Enter Here.

All I know is I'm getting a shot. I check in at the hospital and they start asking questions like, "do I have a DNR, an Advanced Directive and am I a organ donor."  I tell them "I'm just here for a shot" but I answer their questions. Then I have to answer questions about if I've ever fallen down, or taken aspirin in the last month, or do I have any scrapes. Lots of questions.

Later I'm called into PreOp where I'm told that I need to get out of my clothes and put on this hospital gown and shorts to which I reply, "I'm here for a shot." After changing clothes I'm told to climb onto the bed on wheels and offered a warm blanket which I accept. Seems like I'm in an old Frasier episode. Then I get an IV started in my left hand. "I'm just here for a shot."

Forty-five minutes later, I'm wheeled out of PreOp and say goodbye to my wife where she leaves and goes to the waiting area. I'm thereafter wheeled into the hall where they leave me and I wait as people walk by. I think, "I'm just here for a shot."

When I finally get into the OR (did I mention, "I'm just here for a shot") I'm told to climb out of the bed on wheels and climb into this harness, platform, contraption thingy where my rear is in the air and my back is flat. Excuse me but why have I been in this bed for over an hour when I'm just going to climb out of it onto the platform? I could have just walked in here wearing my jeans and shoes, climbed up and taken off my shirt. Duh. "I'm just here for a shot."

My face is face down into the table. They proceed to talk about the Thunder and one of their work colleague while I'm there with my face pressed into the platform, my rear is in the air and I'm bending over this table so my back is flat.  They open my gown in the back to expose my back and start pouring cold things on my back while they continue to talk about their colleague.

So I'm laying on a platform, in the sky, with my backside exposed and cold liquids pouring on my back while they talk. Abandon all dignity, ye who enter here.

Next thing I know I'm in PostOp. After getting dressed, I remember little and I'm not even sure I got a shot, I'm wheeled out to my car in a wheel chair. Were pictures taken? "I'm just here for a shot."

Oh, and I was informed right before entering the OR that I need to get three of these shots and come back in three weeks for the next one.

Remind me to tell you about the time I had to see my primary care physician and he has a perky, female, twenty-something intern/resident shadowing him that day...


2 comments:

  1. You probably know what every woman who ever had a baby is thinking... but I'm sorry you lost your dignity!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wasn't meant to imply mine was worse. I totally get it and agree with you.

    ReplyDelete