The Anecdotal Life Part. 13
Well, Good morning! I once saw an Indian (imitation) sweatshirt that said"Running Bear" on the front and "Barely running" on the back. I'm the backside this morning. Apparently, my sluggish gallbladder had a fit over all the 4000 calorie meals we had at the wedding, all the nuts we kept slamming down between times, all the cake and ice cream and chocolate, a lot of that, and on and on...
The pain started at 4:30 a.m., Friday, one day after I got home. So I had to drive myself to the doctor in Dundalk, get stuffed into an ambulance and was transported to the Bayview Hospital emergency ward in Baltimore.
Well, usually you could die waiting in these places. Since I came in on the gurney they saw to me pretty fast, but then I got caught in the wait mode when it came to the C.T. scan. A trauma case had to be given precedence. I got in for the scan by 4:30 p.m.
However, this still wasn't your average ward in terms of compassion. Huge kindness quotient in each soul that approached me. They'd ask each and every time; is there anything I can do for you , anything to make you more comfortable? At first, I just lay there staring at them and they'd think of some little thing on their own anyway.
Once the pain meds kicked in I could sit back and observe. It's a lively business they're in. My favorite event was a little elderly man who was terrified and not quite on top of his game in terms of awareness. As small as he was he had a loud commanding voice they could use over at the O's baseball stadium. He would holler out boldly and continually, "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor," until someone would respond. It would scare the tar out of you. On the initial round a nurse got in his face and said equally loudly, "You can't do that here!". He would respond amiably, calm down some and start chatting, still at forte however. He had some kind of nurse. She got his number on the first go-round and thereafter, everytime he burst forth, she'd yell over from wherever she was. "Did you have another bad dream?" He'd shout back," Well, yes I did", and tell her about it and they'd shout back and forth awhile; she'd tell him to back to sleep and he'd promptly do so. During one episode she told him he had pneumonia. "Well!" he said sounding completely baffled, "How'd I get that?" As I remember it, she said she didn't know , but that they'd fix it and he allowed as how that sounded like a good idea. They had arrived at a congenial modus operandi and it made for interesting listening. This would occur on the half-hour. He never yelled the same word. He was fairly creative in that department.
The radiologist threw in his own peculiar brand of humor. He wasn't going give me a chance to panic. He yakety yakked his way along with his face right in mine and at the end, when I did get a word in edgewise, I asked," did you see anything?" He said," girl friend, we saw everything you got." Well!...that shut me up.
My roommate had her own little quirks. You know how some people sleep with their light on? Mildred slept with her buzzer on. She kept rolling over on it. I would plead with her; the nurses kept running in there to hoist her off of it, but it was hopeless. The doctor told me it would be a good idea to stay all night, but when one of those hopelessly perky little aides came in at 11 p.m. and said " You're looking good! The plan is for you to go home! Isn't that nice?" I knew darn well that wasn't the plan, but grabbed it. Mildred was definitely " at one" with her buzzer and I would be better off making tracks for home. I rolled off the gurney, stumbled into my clothes ( wierd ones I'd grabbed in a hurry ) and got the guard to get me a taxi to my truck in Dundalk, ran from the taxi to the truck in a bone drenching downpour, and I was home in bed in Annapolis by 12:30 p.m., sans Mildred and her buzzer. My two cats piled in, glad to see me and we slept.
Copyright: June 4, 2006.
The pain started at 4:30 a.m., Friday, one day after I got home. So I had to drive myself to the doctor in Dundalk, get stuffed into an ambulance and was transported to the Bayview Hospital emergency ward in Baltimore.
Well, usually you could die waiting in these places. Since I came in on the gurney they saw to me pretty fast, but then I got caught in the wait mode when it came to the C.T. scan. A trauma case had to be given precedence. I got in for the scan by 4:30 p.m.
However, this still wasn't your average ward in terms of compassion. Huge kindness quotient in each soul that approached me. They'd ask each and every time; is there anything I can do for you , anything to make you more comfortable? At first, I just lay there staring at them and they'd think of some little thing on their own anyway.
Once the pain meds kicked in I could sit back and observe. It's a lively business they're in. My favorite event was a little elderly man who was terrified and not quite on top of his game in terms of awareness. As small as he was he had a loud commanding voice they could use over at the O's baseball stadium. He would holler out boldly and continually, "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor," until someone would respond. It would scare the tar out of you. On the initial round a nurse got in his face and said equally loudly, "You can't do that here!". He would respond amiably, calm down some and start chatting, still at forte however. He had some kind of nurse. She got his number on the first go-round and thereafter, everytime he burst forth, she'd yell over from wherever she was. "Did you have another bad dream?" He'd shout back," Well, yes I did", and tell her about it and they'd shout back and forth awhile; she'd tell him to back to sleep and he'd promptly do so. During one episode she told him he had pneumonia. "Well!" he said sounding completely baffled, "How'd I get that?" As I remember it, she said she didn't know , but that they'd fix it and he allowed as how that sounded like a good idea. They had arrived at a congenial modus operandi and it made for interesting listening. This would occur on the half-hour. He never yelled the same word. He was fairly creative in that department.
The radiologist threw in his own peculiar brand of humor. He wasn't going give me a chance to panic. He yakety yakked his way along with his face right in mine and at the end, when I did get a word in edgewise, I asked," did you see anything?" He said," girl friend, we saw everything you got." Well!...that shut me up.
My roommate had her own little quirks. You know how some people sleep with their light on? Mildred slept with her buzzer on. She kept rolling over on it. I would plead with her; the nurses kept running in there to hoist her off of it, but it was hopeless. The doctor told me it would be a good idea to stay all night, but when one of those hopelessly perky little aides came in at 11 p.m. and said " You're looking good! The plan is for you to go home! Isn't that nice?" I knew darn well that wasn't the plan, but grabbed it. Mildred was definitely " at one" with her buzzer and I would be better off making tracks for home. I rolled off the gurney, stumbled into my clothes ( wierd ones I'd grabbed in a hurry ) and got the guard to get me a taxi to my truck in Dundalk, ran from the taxi to the truck in a bone drenching downpour, and I was home in bed in Annapolis by 12:30 p.m., sans Mildred and her buzzer. My two cats piled in, glad to see me and we slept.
Copyright: June 4, 2006.
posted by The Anecdotal Life at 6:20 AM
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