Procedure Clear

I just got back from the hospital from my colonoscopy.  Everything is fine, no problem with me medically.

I knew that, but bowed to pressure to get it done.  As it turns out, it was totally unnecessary.  A waste of time, money and effort.  They found norhing.  NOTHING, which I could have told them last week, but evidently no one believes me, they've got to put me on a table, anesthetize me, and see for themselves.  Which as it turned out, is just exactly what I told them. 

We got to the hospital at 6:00 and they did they had me sign some releases, took some blood, then put me in a Day Surgery room.  Told me to put on the gown and they'd be back in a few minutes.  Sure enough, they came back in a few minutes to start the IV and to have me tell them my date of birth and the last four of my social security number.  Then they left, told me that I'd be going to the scope room shortly.  That was a damned lie.  Four hours later I was still in that room, starting to get a case of the screaming red-ass.

When I have a procedure done, I want to know what's going to happen.  Down to the nitty-gritty.  No one told me that I'd be spending four friggin hours in a small room waiting for them to get their act together.  Some one else's problem is not my problem, and while I feel sorry for them, that doesn't mean that I want to be pushed to the back of the line.  Even if they die, to me they're just another obit in tomorrow's paper.

I got to the hospital at 6:00 and was pushed out the door at 12:20, after the entire nursing staff told me that I'd be home at noon.  Evidently, lying to patients isn't a problem for nurses.  I'm tempted to write the nursing board and put the whole Day Surgery staff on report.

They roll me to the scope room at 10:45 local and push me into a room.  I a few minutes they tell me they're going to have to move me.  My scope room is ready.  Turns out they've put me in a storage room, a broom closet.  They have a multi-million dollar facility and the best they can do is to put a pissed-off patient in a broom closet.  They wheel me to the scope room, and there's a really nice lttle lady in there that wants to make small-talk.  I tell her that she's got a truly angry patient, and all I want from her is cold, efficient professionalism.  I'm not interested in her grandkids, or her anecdotes, just do your damned job and let's get this show on the road.  She tell me that it isn't her fault, and I tell her that I'm not assigning fault, I'm simply making sure that the job gets done.  Anything that gets between the job and completion is totally unacceptable.

The Doctor comes in shortly, and tells me that he had a bad surgery this morning.  Again, not my problem.  His problem.  "Let's get this done, doc."  He gives me some anesthesia, and I'm out like a light.  Wake up in Day Surgery.  They want me to fart.  No problem.  I can fart on command, so I rip off a couple of good ones, ask the nurse if that's sufficient, and tell her to give me my pants.  I'm outta here.  I walked out of the hospital at 12:10, fully ten minutes later than the day surgery nurses told me I'd be home.  Another lie, and they lie to patients without even a pause.  Some might say that it's an honest mistake, but if you don't know to a certainty, keep your damned mouth shut.

They push me to the curb.  I get in the car, come home and make myself a couple of fired egg sandwiches.

Now, to a medical certainty, there is nothing wrong with my colon.  I knew that last week, but again, no one listens to the patient.  However, it is now a medical certainty, and I'm still pissed off at the inconvenience, the incompetence, the lack of patient care, and the purely disinterested way that modern medicine looks at a patient.