Surgery, Gurneys and Hallways (part one)!

6/20/12

Surgery, Gurneys and Hallways (part one!

I know that you are probably wondering what those three words have in common.  Most days not too much. but one time I experienced a day where all of these items came into play big time.

I'll cut to the chase - this is a true story for those of you who care.  Slightly embellished perhaps, but true nonetheless.  Since about 1988 or so I'd had an issue with my back and yes I tried therapy, acupuncture, exercises (blah), heat, cold and anything else that a doctor could think up. During one visit the surgeon recommended an outpatient procedure that would greatly reduce the swelling between the discs.  Okay, outpatient, a few days off from work, Jeff waiting on me hand and foot - sign me up I'm in.

The hospital called a few days before the procedure to remind that I could have nothing to eat or drink after midnight.  They even see fit to remind me that lifesavers, chewing gum and tic-tacs constitute food.  I could, however, brush my teeth but not swallow.

I had to arrive at the hospital practically in the middle of the night for a procedure that was supposed to happen around noon time.  So why the early wake-up call?  Because it takes the hospital that long to "process" you.  First stop was patient registration.  I see a sign that says "take a number."   There is NO ONE else waiting in the stiff, small chairs surrounding the registration area.  I pull number 24 and now I'm wondering where are patients 1 to 23.  Maybe they were sent home for a medical violation of food or drink.

Since my surgery was on a Monday the good ladies in registration had an entire two days to catch-up on and they did.  They had their coffee and donuts and talked - and talked some more.  Meanwhile, my stomach is growling and I've given some thought to just eating the stupid number - they didn't say I couldn't eat paper.

Finally, a clerk opens up her window.  "Number one" she calls.  There is no response of course as was expected.  Bless her heart she went all the way from number one to number 23 with no response and this didn't seem to faze her in the least.  When it was my turn I approached the phone booth-sized space and Ms. Smith tells me to sit.  And like the obedient dog that I am, I sit.

Ms. Smith prattles about name, date of birth, address, insurance.  I rattle off my name, rank and serial number and like a gunslinger whip out my insurance card.  You had better hope that you can answer yes to the insurance question otherwise you might have to leave your first born child as a deposit.  In some cases, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea.

At the successful conclusion of my registration, Ms. Smith brands, I mean bands me with one of those nasty little plastic bracelets that never fit right.  For me they're always too big and I spend my "down" time twirling the bracelet to have something to do.

Ms. Smith wants to know if all the information on my bracelet is correct.  I tell her it is but I lean over the desk just slightly so that I can inhale the fat oozing from the donut resting near Ms. Smith's elbow.  Oh my gosh, it's a chocolate donut with sprinkles - a particular favorite of mine.  It's been like forever since I've eaten and I feel faint with hunger.  The donut is pulled back by Ms. Smith.  How does she know that I'm coveting her stupid donut which just for the record she didn't really need!  You know what I mean?

Okay readers and friends, that's it for tonight.  I'll post another installment of Surgery, Gurneys and Hallways soon.

P