I checked in at 0730 on the morning of October 3, 2019 for a second procedure to remove a stent put in during my first procedure during my gall bladder operation in July. Our hospital here is very good and the nurses are great, (angels on earth in my opinion.) That morning when I checked in it was so full of people awaiting their own surgeries it was like being in the crowd waiting to get into a popular concert.
I was whisked away to a small prep room by a volunteer person, a nice old man who looked like he was in worse shape than me. He was very nice and I admired his dedication to volunteering. I know several who volunteer and they all seem to be wonderful and dedicated individuals. He told me to take off all my clothes and put them in the bag supplied and then put on one of those splendid hospital gowns. He left and as he departed he said, "do use the restroom until you clear it with the nurse who will be in shortly to get more information." I thought that odd, but when I looked at the restroom door it had a sign in huge red letters with the same message.
The nurse came in moments later. She was a tall, slender, quite mature woman, all business. The first thing she did was look at my bracelet with my name and date of birth to see if I knew the answer and was the right guy. It took me a while to melt the ice on her. She was very good and asked about 15 questions about my health and all my answers were "no." She then said, "you can get up and use the restroom now and I will follow with the IV bottle" that had been attached to me. I know that am an old man and should have no shame at this point, but with the hospital gown flapping open with her right behind me was an uncomfortable feeling. I knew she was not interested in looking at my bony posterior, as nurses probably see a dozen or more of every size and shape on every shift, but still I was not interested in flashing mine.
I ended up being wheeled into 3 more tiny rooms before getting into the operating room (for all I know there may have been more, because I was already under anesthesia). The 3rd room I was in I met the anesthetist and the surgeon (first time I had seen him.) He told me what he would be doing and that I would be out and home in the afternoon. The room was so small and there must have 20 beds in there. Each bed with a thin curtain separating the stalls. My surgeon was going to operate on a old man next to me. He said this was going to be his 6th surgery by the surgeon. All the 15 questions I was asked at every step along the way and replied, "no" to, that old man answered yes to 13 of them. I felt ashamed of myself for thinking woe is me. That man next to me had 13 times more problems than I did. I was in 2 more small rooms after the surgery before being released.
I was thinking about all the moving before and after surgery but everything went smoothly so I can't fault the process and besides I got to meet more wonderful nurses. It was funny that they were all trying to make my day better and all the while I was trying to make their day better. I can't imagine how many loud, crabby, complainers they have to deal with every day.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
I was whisked away to a small prep room by a volunteer person, a nice old man who looked like he was in worse shape than me. He was very nice and I admired his dedication to volunteering. I know several who volunteer and they all seem to be wonderful and dedicated individuals. He told me to take off all my clothes and put them in the bag supplied and then put on one of those splendid hospital gowns. He left and as he departed he said, "do use the restroom until you clear it with the nurse who will be in shortly to get more information." I thought that odd, but when I looked at the restroom door it had a sign in huge red letters with the same message.
The nurse came in moments later. She was a tall, slender, quite mature woman, all business. The first thing she did was look at my bracelet with my name and date of birth to see if I knew the answer and was the right guy. It took me a while to melt the ice on her. She was very good and asked about 15 questions about my health and all my answers were "no." She then said, "you can get up and use the restroom now and I will follow with the IV bottle" that had been attached to me. I know that am an old man and should have no shame at this point, but with the hospital gown flapping open with her right behind me was an uncomfortable feeling. I knew she was not interested in looking at my bony posterior, as nurses probably see a dozen or more of every size and shape on every shift, but still I was not interested in flashing mine.
I ended up being wheeled into 3 more tiny rooms before getting into the operating room (for all I know there may have been more, because I was already under anesthesia). The 3rd room I was in I met the anesthetist and the surgeon (first time I had seen him.) He told me what he would be doing and that I would be out and home in the afternoon. The room was so small and there must have 20 beds in there. Each bed with a thin curtain separating the stalls. My surgeon was going to operate on a old man next to me. He said this was going to be his 6th surgery by the surgeon. All the 15 questions I was asked at every step along the way and replied, "no" to, that old man answered yes to 13 of them. I felt ashamed of myself for thinking woe is me. That man next to me had 13 times more problems than I did. I was in 2 more small rooms after the surgery before being released.
I was thinking about all the moving before and after surgery but everything went smoothly so I can't fault the process and besides I got to meet more wonderful nurses. It was funny that they were all trying to make my day better and all the while I was trying to make their day better. I can't imagine how many loud, crabby, complainers they have to deal with every day.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
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