today, i traded in my Superman skivvies
for my Clark Kent alter ego.
in other words, i went from being the doctor
to being the patient.
this morning i got up
put on my scrubs
made my coffee
and went to work
i spent my day
consulting orthopedics for the tibia/fibula fracture
then later for the hip fracture
sent the baby boy (who was aggressively head-banging in his high chair to the point of needing stitches) home
then i intubated one patient
did an ultrasound on another one looking for free fluid in their belly
waited for the MICU to answer my page
(which never happened. stupid MICU.)
and i also ate lunch.
|a totally unrelated photo of me drinking champagne from the bottle. class class class.|
then i raced out of work
jumped on the highway
and drove to *another* hospital
and hopped up on the exam table
next thing i know,
i'm signing consent forms
on the line marked "patient"
and shot up with local anesthetic
being asked, "does this hurt?"
"are you comfortable?"
"we're done. wanna see?"
then i'm having a pressure dressing placed
and being given specific instructions
not to get it wet for 48 hours
or drink alcohol for 48 hours
or work out for one week
then i'm picking up prescriptions
and driving myself home
to a hubby-cooked meal
and a warm fire in the fireplace.
now i'm all hopped up on tylenol
and struggling with saran wrap and duck tape in the shower
(to keep my dressing dry...note: this method is not effective. lesson learned.)
trying to look pitiful
so the huz will keep waiting on me hand and foot.
for the record,
i much prefer it on the stethoscope-wearing side of the table.
being a patient is less than fun.
also for the record,
you all are amazing.
and you say the nicest, most wonderful things.
thank you...from the apex of my left ventricle
(that's "bottom of my heart" in layman's terms.
i just made it up.
now you have a new way to say iloveyou to your honey.
just in time for V-day.