Hospitals? Get DOWN With Your Bad Voice!

Well, it's nearly two weeks since I had the fifteen inch medical implement surgically removed at the U. of W. hospital. I was scheduled for a one day (in and out) visit (don't you love the euphemisms?), but I got to thinking -- gee, that's a long implement to give such little attention to.....what would Eugene O'Neil have to say? Surely he would trot out his famous statement and bellow it to the skies: "Attention muct be paid?!" After all, it was this very instrument that, (unbeknownst to me, because I didn't know it was in there until 2-8-11) led me to relocate to Bainbridge Island where I would be able to walk nearly everywhere I needed to go because car seats where the worst, left me buying six chairs plus two medical chairs my neurologist swore by (and I swore AT), brought me to a year in rehab, six months in acupuncture, chiropractic practice, medical hypnosis, rounds of inner and outer botox, shots in my spine, pain clinics dispensing morphine and oxycodone.......and all I get is an in and outie? No, no, no, no, no. By this time, I was afraid. I was uneasy. A couple times before this surgery my blood pressure had zoomed to zero during day surgeries.

And yet.....I was afraid of my doctor. Oy! My doctor! She is golden, she is the queen of the department at the University Hospital, she's one of those women who was once the smartest girls in those adolescent books about...well, smart girls. You need to tie a knot and there's nothing around but broom and a horse? Use the horse to tie the knot and the horse to ride out on. Dummy. She has a no-nonsense approach, not much of a bedside manner at all: "Hello, I'm Dr. ____________, I'll be seeing you next week to remove the ____________." She doesn't waste a word. Or a smile. Other doctors worship her. "Oh, Dr. _________ is doing the surgery? Oh, my God, you can't do better than that!"

I CAN'T?
Then I want her for longer then an in & outie!

"You've got to be your own best advocate," said Alan. "Stand up for yourself. You're paying, she's doing her work. Tell her what you want. Use plain English. Tell her what you want and tell her why you want it. Be firm. Nice, but firm. All she can say is 'No', but you've got to give her a chance to say 'Yes'. You can do this. Just everybody else seems to worship her doesn't mean that you have to worship her. Now, get in there and Go for it."

What does he think this is, football?

There are about five things in my life that I'm really proud of and not one of them has anything to do with being firm with doctors. Well, there was the time at Virginia Mason when the doctor wouldn't examine me because, she said, that wasn't part of what she did, and I looked at her and said, "Okay. You're the doctor here. I'm you patient. I'm going to pull down my pants. See? See me pulling down my pants? Now, YOU, as my DOCTOR, are going to walk up behind me, closer, closer, and TAKE A LOOK! I don't care if you've never examined another patient in your LIFE! YOU ARE GOING TO EXAMINE ME!" And she did. But I wasn't afraid of her. Come to think of it, I think she was the department head, too. But she was a weenie compared to this UW doc. I have all kinds of nerve when it comes to weenies.

So the day of surgery came and they had found my veins (terrific veins) and piled my hair into the cartoon cap and put the breathy-warm-air-blankie over me and suddenly here she comes. I'll call her June. "How are you doing?" she asked. "Fine, just fine," I said, "but....June....I believe it's in my best interests to spend the night here in the hospital." She turned her back away. "So you think you ought to spend the night?" she questioned me.

"I do," I said.
"It can be a long wait for the ferry and there's all kinds of lumps and bumps on the
planks getting on to the ferry and I'm uneasy about the first night. I am not at all convinced that I won't need hospital care tonight."
She turned towards me. "Well," she said. "I'll see what I can do about that. I'll try to find a room for you."

After surgery I got a cheeseburger. Ice cream. Morphine every six minutes. My blood pressure began to slide downwards all through the night but that was okay because there were doctors there to come in and check it and do what doctors are trained to do, things Alan is NOT trained to do. And the next day I was let go at about one o'clock, by which time many of the staff and I were singing and having a high old time. Well, I was having a high old time and they were having a contact high old time.

Four days ago a representative from the U. of Washington called to give me the date of my follow-up visit. September 20. Okay. "And you were a 'day patient'?" she asked. "Nope," I said, "I spent the night." She whistled through her teeth. "How did you manage that?" she questioned me. "I just asked." I said. "Wow," she whispered.

This morning, another staff member called, wanting to re-remind me of the follow-up date. "And what was it that we did to you?" she asked. "You removed a _________________," I said. "Did we do anything else to do?" she asked. I laughed. I laughed and I laughed. "Other than monitoring me and changing my dressings and making me feel safe and being very very nice to me, that's it." "I just wanted to be sure," she said.

So that's it. I'm much less sophisticated about these things than the rest of you are, out there. I just want to put my two cents in and say GRAB YOUR VOICE AND USE IT. Because it's true - nobody's gonna say it for you. And there's nothing. Nothing at all to lose.

By the way - - no more pain!!!!!