This
was written for Write On Edge using the prompt:
For this week, write
about a face to face meeting which, for better or for worse, doesn’t go as
planned. Fiction or memoir, 450 words.
I’m choosing to do a memoir and if you
are at all squeamish about medical looking stuff, blow past the picture
because, unfortunately, it’s real.
******************************
I was pissy. Who am I kidding? I was much more than that
at 9:00 a.m. when my assigned, “a-hole” of a neurosurgeon walked into the Intensive
Care Unit of a rural-ish Indiana hospital.
A
lot had happened to me in the 48 hours leading up to that Friday morning in late June.
I
had an accident. A pretty big one.
I
was extremely mad at myself for being so stupid and at what my foreseeable future likely
held.
I
was transported to “erehwon” (remember that store...Nowhere spelled backwards?) by a brand new high school diploma holding, 18
year old, whose father coincidentally owned the ambulance company. All I could think was, “Why the hell wasn’t I transported to Chicago?” A
rhetorical question but my mind wasn’t operating on full cylinders.
I
wasn’t allowed ANY food or beverage including ice chips (remember 48 hours!!!)
because I likely had another surgery in my near future. So what if I vomit? (I
actually did later missing the barf bowl and projectiling chunks of curdled chocolate malt across the room hitting a wall 10 feet away. Impressive!)
Seventeen hours earlier, Dr. A-hole shaved a
quarter of my hair off, drilled four holes into my skull to affix four pins in
order to stabilize my neck with a contraption called a “Halo”. It was to buy him time so he could
figure out what to do with me. The halo would stay on for 12 weeks he informed me.
(Me, post first surgery after the Halo was "installed")
I had a shitty night nurse who left the door open on my automatic pain medicine machine. So no matter how many times I pushed the little button on which I had a death grip and was supposed to dispensed narcotics every 8 minutes, nothing happened. I pushed it every 2 minutes hoping for a miracle knowing I only got a bump when it beeped. Sigh……And when the day nurse discovered “Mindy’s” mistake at shift change, all she said was “Oops!”
Granted,
this doctor walked into a whole world of trouble but his attitude
sucked and everyone in the room agreed (including the nurse). No questions were tolerated as he announced his vacation time through Monday. His partners would look in on
me over the weekend and they'd determine my status on Monday.
I
asked, temples throbbing with pain, “Is it going to hurt this much for the next
12 weeks?”
“Yes.”
“Are you planning for pain management ‘cause it really hurts?”
“I
don’t think that should be your worry right now!”
“So
basically, you’re telling me to just suck it up?”
“Yes.
That's right.”
I
looked right at him without blinking and simply said, “You’re fired. Scott hire Dr. McGee.”
He
turned on his heels and walked out of my room never to be seen again.
****************************************
Blogger’s
Note: My new surgeon operated within 24 hours and on a Saturday assuring me my
neck would be like new.
14 comments:
Hah, you've got to give him credit for the way he reacted to being fired. He took it like a soldier! I wonder if he served in the Wafen SS.
That guy probably gets fired a lot. I am glad that everything worked out!
Hey, I'd never thought of it that way. He probably was in the military (not that particular squadron, I'm sure). It was his turn to be a little pissy! WIN/WIN as far as I'm concerned.
I'm sure of it!
Bravo! I come from a long line of women who just accept what doctors say as gospel and never question anything, so I find your approach under stress VERY impressive! A doctor has many patients but you only have one YOU, and I'm glad you looked out for yourself.
Thanks, Gal! That was probably the worst I have felt in my ENTIRE life and that doctor was one of the BIGGEST jerks I've met, ever. I cracked, snapped, may have yelled and definitely cried. It was awful and I've never been like that before and I hope never to be that way again. We made the correct decision without doubt and I won't hesitate to question a doctor, respectfully, again.
Everyone needs an advocate when they enter a hospital. You need to question everything. You were so brilliant for figuring out what to do. "Who are you and what are you doing?" is good.
I had never, besides uncomplicated childbirths, ever spent time in the hospital myself. So the ICU for a week was a challenge. I was strong because my two girlfriends, who were with me those first few days are highly qualified nurses and always told me you HAVE to question everything. I will always do that from now on but, hopefully, I won't have to for myself or a loved one.
Sounds like a freaky experience. And what a doctor! Jerk. Great writing!
It was freaky and he was wa MAJOR jerk. Thanks for visiting!
I, too, am from a long line of "the doctor says so" women. Not me. There's a reason they call it "practicing" medicine. If any of them actually knew what they were doing, they wouldn't have to practice anymore. The kidney doctor my mom sees gave her medication that she didn't question, (he said for five years "your numbers are a little high, but there's nothing to worry about") which caused her kidneys to go through epic failure, and now she's on dialysis three times a week. She doesn't believe me when I tell her to look at the side effects for the drug. And he owns the dialysis center that she goes to. Coinkydink? I think not! He's got the bedside manner of an angry water buffalo and I'm pretty certain he's got a restraining order against me, just in case I go ballistic on him again.
But this isn't about me or my mother. You are brave and you are incredibly talented and I love the fact you feel comfortable enough to share this story. I want to go to a local hospital and have a "Braveheart" moment on the staff. Power to the patients!
Wow Gina! Isn't it a shame that we have teachers who don't get paid enough and can't have a bad day but a doctor can act like an a-hole like its commonplace. Humph. Glad you didn't have to deal with him anymore.
Your poor mom. Love the restraining order bit. They should watch out for us angry patients!
Thank you for your kind words. My "Braveheart" moment has been retold many times with laughter by all four of the others in the room at the time. I was shaken up, not really remembering the conversation, so my daughter filled me in on the epic rant her mother, ME, went on. Lovely having your child, although grown, see you at one of your finest moments.
That's exactly right, Kenya! He was outta there fast. I don't think I scared him...
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