O’ Doctor, Where art thou?

Now, I wouldn’t normally blog about something this personal, but the comedic value is just too high. MB keeps demanding a post, and if I can’t laugh at myself, I’d probably be stuck always laughing alone.

I’m on my second day of recovery after some out-patient surgery. It’s now official, there will not be any little Sylows running around. No, that’s not the funny part, I assure you. This is pretty much that one and only occasion men have to experience something women endure regularly; stirrups.

Now before anyone bails for fear of boredom or too much information (TMI), I want to point out that I have no interest in providing either.

Have you ever wondered what happens in a hospital during a Fire Drill??

So I walk into the operating room. Two very nice nurses help me get into costume and position for what is promised to be a 20 minute ordeal. Just when everything is in place and ready to go, the fucking fire alarm goes off.

“Just wait here, we’ll be back with the doctor after the fire drill.”

Wait here? Like I’m gonna wander off covered in iodine soap.

Five minutes pass. Then ten. Wish I had something to read.

Fifteen. It’s getting kind of cold in here. Good thing I left my socks on.

Twenty minutes. If I believed in god I’d be thinking this was a sign I should reconsider.

Twenty five. Shit, how far away is my phone?

Thirty Minutes. I hear laughter. Is it in the hallway, or just in my head?

After thirty five minutes the doctor & nurses came in. I won’t go into the stupid remarks we all made in an attempt to lighten the mood.

The only other comment of note came from the doctor. At one point he looked at the nurse with one eye closed, and remarked that he was having trouble seeing because his son had poked him in the eye the night before.

If he hadn’t immediately asked for the 15 blade, I might have been able to forget about it…