By Mark W. Danielson
Here’s a great plot for a horror story. A patient visits a back pain clinic and gets
more agony than relief. It begins with
being ignored at the front desk and then being greeted by an angry nurse who
escorts him into the back room among multiple victims on gurneys. His curtain is drawn long enough to change
into hospital garb before being opened so all can witness his IV being inserted. Left staring at the ceiling, the victim then
inspects every rusty bolt in the converted factory as loaded gurneys are
wheeled back and forth in front of him. Ninety
minutes later and shaking from the cold, the anesthesiologist says, “Time for a
nap,” and the victim falls into a groggy state.
Having been wheeled under bright lights and rolled onto his stomach, pain
rips through his shoulders as his arms are brought forward and legs raised to
prepare for a foot long needle. The next
thing he knows, the patient awakens in the recovery room.
Checking his body for missing parts, he is relieved to find
everything is intact. Unfortunately,
that included the back pain. His stomach
groans when the doctor schedules another visit.
On his way out, he notices a sinister grin from the nurse from hell.
After the second injection yields the same result, X-rays
show the victim has a compression fracture.
Assuring him this is an easy repair, the doctor says the patient must be
awake for this one in case he nicks a nerve.
When the time comes, lying awake, face down and deadened from the lower
back down, the doctor strikes a nerve as if acting on his own premonition. With pain shooting down the patient’s leg, the
doctor calmly says, “This is why we keep you awake,” adding they took a biopsy
as a precaution. Suddenly concerned, the
patient contemplates that while waiting for the medicine to diminish so he can
put weight on his legs. Eyeing Hell
Nurse, he watches her make her rounds, numbing everyone with her gaze. When he learns his biopsy is missing – he is
convinced Hell Nurse was at fault. Although
the repair fixed his sharp pain, the rest hangs like sewer stink.
Not satisfied, the doc said, “Once you’re heeled, we’ll get
you back for another procedure.” Mulling
this over, the patient remembers the victim in Stephen King's Misery and wonders if this is a bad dream. He watches a dozen people come and go while recovering,
wondering if anyone feels better afterwards.
His missing biopsy keeps popping into his head, and yet he still returns
for a fourth procedure. This time before
the privacy curtain is drawn, he insists on speaking to the doctor first. Reluctantly, Hell Nurse releases her grip, but
before walking off, mentions something about an implant. Now left to his thoughts but fully clothed, he
contemplates his future as more gurneys are paraded by. When the doctor shows up an hour later, he convinces
him he really needs this procedure to determine where the pain was coming
from. Submitting to the IV, Hell Nurse
promptly screws it up, and although the doctor does the next one, it hurts more
than any before. To make matters worse,
the doc yells at his nurse for mentioning implants, and then assures the
patient this is only another pain blocking injection. Now all the patient can think of is a bad joke
-- Why is pain like a cockroach.? Because it resists pain block injections!
Clearly, there is a time when even the most loyal patient
cries Uncle, and now this patient is
screaming it. It matters not that the
doc wants him back for a disc repair, there is NO way this patient is ever returning
to THAT office. Turns out it was a good
thing, too, because a consulting neurosurgeon (read second opinion) says
definitely NO to more surgery. Instead, get
in the pool and do physical therapy. As
you might imagine, this is a true story and I was the victim. My compression fracture repair was good, but the
second opinion was even better. As for
Hell Nurse, don’t be surprised if she shows up in one of my stories . . .
3 comments:
I know that lower back pain is notoriously difficult to treat but that catalogue of ineptitudes is carrying it all a bit far. For me a 4 monthly 'service' by my great osteopath and (recently) Pilates classes has held it at bay for years. I hope your new regime continues to do the trick.
Thanks, Bill. I should add there was only ONE stitch that needed to be removed, but the nurse only managed to remove HALF. I ended up blindly yanking out the other half a week later. Definitely an odd experience worth putting into a book some day.
I can certainly sympathize, Mark. I had a fractured vertebre that plagued me for years, a week in the hospital and over-the-door traction at home. I've also had nurses who took my blood, which felt as though I had been stabbed with a screwdriver. There are good and bad in every profession, but it seems there are fewer compassionate health care professionals these days.(And fewer doctors.)
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