My English Patient

So, yesterday I took my boyfriend to the hospital to have minor outpatient surgery. I should say that I have only been to the hospital for medical reasons once...and that was 29 years ago...and kind of my mom's fault. But, every other time I've been to the hospital for non-medical reasons, I come away with this altruistic sense that I would've been such a great nurse. (Nevermind that I'm not that much of a people person, and that I ran away from home whenever it was time for a doctor's visit.) Still, I picture myself as a Snow White-like nurse, floating around the hospital...comforting patients...bringing cheer and calm...birds chirping and perched on my shoulder. So, I found myself looking forward to taking care of him later that day as he recovered.

But, as we sat filling out pre-op paper work, I was nervous down to my veins. Scared that he wouldn't wake up from it, that there would be pain, that they would do the wrong procedure, that they would donate his body to science. I tried to exude cheer and calm...chanting 'Snow White...Snow White' to myself in my head. I can't tell you how many times I had to swallow that lump that kept welling up in my throat. The nurse was kind and let me go back to pre-op with him. Decked out in a paper gown, booties, and a little cap that made him look like a French chef...he hopped up into his hospital bed. Polite chit chat ensued with the various nurses that came by to check vitals. This actually helped take my mind off of the pool of nausea that was filling up my stomach...until the IV went in. As the nurse was giving a running commentary on how strong his veins are, I think the color drained out of my face, the room all the sudden looked like an Andy Warhol painting, and my knee caps turned to Jell-O. I had to sit down and lay my head on the bedrail. Nurse, can I have a little laughing gas...just to take the edge off? No problem, I thought. I could still be a nurse...I'll just have a cocktail before work every day.

They gave him a little drug to relax him. After he was sufficiently slurring his words, they whisked him off into surgery. I think I heard him singing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" as they wheeled him away. In the waiting room, I read everything that wasn't nailed down. The doctor came out to tell me everything went great (big exhale). Later, I rounded the corner to the recovery room to find the cutest patient propped up in his bed, sipping water out of a little straw. My altruistic feelings returned and I think I actually heard the sound of birds chirping somewhere in the distance. I was just about to break out into song...and then the nurse came by to take the IV out. I saw stars. Luckily, there was a chair behind me to catch my fall. Nurse, where's that laughing gas?

Humph. I guess this Snow White stuff is for the birds...or at least not for the faint of heart (or stomach). But, taking care of my patient later that night was as fun as I predicted. Thanks to Blockbuster, two pints of Ben and Jerry's...and the absence of needles.