Monday, August 5, 2013
You wanna what, on our first date?!
Posting early. Not sure how I'll feel in the morning or afterwards. Hope you participate.
It's Tuesday, people. Let me warn the delicate-natured folk, the following contains some language that may be graphic and crude. Confession: I'm a lousy patient.
As some of you know, I've had some recent health concerns, and my doctors are being thorough about finding the causes and how to remedy my compromised health. They're so thorough, that tomorrow I will have the pleasure of a back entry reaming without a kiss first. Before I tell you about my colonoscopy prep, let me share what has gone on before.
In previous weeks, my doctor raised concern about my white blood cell count. He sent me to a hematologist. Consult went well. I liked the doctor. I like my doctor. We have great rapport. I particularly like my primary doctor because we share a lot in common. We're the same age, we work out at the same gym and he's a sport doctor. I like Dr. Williams because he's committed to his own health and Mister raved about him and Mister likes very few people. When I got tired of waiting months to see my OB/GYN, I thought I'd try Mister's doctor. Been with him over a decade now.
Back to staff and why I'm a lousy patient. When I interact with the staff, who are friendly and professional, there's no history, no chemistry. It's, “Ms. Baldwin please do this or do that.” I, in turn, am typically equally impersonal and civil, and I will say no to things that are routine but not paramount for my current visit such stepping on the scale, (“I weigh....) or in the case of the nurse who asked for the umpteenth time during my last admission to draw blood at midnight, I refused. She caught herself from being incredulous, “Are you refusing to give blood?” Without hesitation, I replied, “Yes.” I turned over signaling I was going back to sleep. They had drawn blood six hours earlier. What could possibly be different? Nothing. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
So the reaming. Prep includes a liquid diet. This is wrong with a capital 'W.' A girl likes to eat and telling me to fast is just wrong. Then there is drinking twelve gallons of water. I'm a camel. I don't regularly do water so now my cackles are up. Mister is frustrated and fussing. I sulk and acquiesce. Last, there's this gawd awful crap they want me to mix and drink with another gallon of water. This is followed by sitting on the toilet ten to fifteen times afterward before retiring to bed without even water after midnight until my procedure in the morning. For real?
Oh but there's more. The procedure entails weaving an eight-foot wire with a camera attached through my intestines. You know the entry point, right? So forgive me if I'm not Suzie Sunshine at 7AM when they lube me up.
How about you? Are you the model patient or are you the crotchety woman everyone strains to smile at when they see you come in?
Drop a link to your confession or comment in the section below.