Medical Emergency

Fire drills.  We’ve all been through them.  When an alarm goes off legitimately, people don’t know what to do.  At least not at first.  I was accompanying my wife for a routine colonoscopy.  We were in the recovery room, and she was still coming out of anesthesia when I thought I smelled something chemical-like, almost the caustic kind of petroleum-product smell with none of the sweet undertones.  Now, I have no idea what they use in facilities like that, so I said nothing.  About fifteen minutes later the fire alarm went off.  My wife had already gotten dressed, thank goodness.  The staff was all walking around, apologizing to everyone for the noise.  After about five minutes, the surgeon came over and said, “We have to go outside.  Let me go over this briefly.”  He did and I helped my wife down the stairs and outside.  Firetrucks came.

This was something new in my experience.  Hospitals and clinics are buildings, with all the usual limitations of physical structures with complex machinery in them.  I’d never been in one when an alarm went off before.  There’s always a period of disbelief among staff as well as patients.  I wondered what they did with those in the midst of a colonoscopy.  They’re in a somewhat delicate condition to be rolled outside (and it was none too warm that day).  I can imagine how I might’ve panicked had my wife not yet been in recovery.  As it was, we thought we were clear to leave, so we just came home as others less fortunate stood outside awaiting the all clear.

Image credit: Jason Lawrence,  Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license, via Wikimedia Commons

After a medical procedure we’re used to being able to ask questions.  Take your time.  Come out of anesthesia.  After we got home I could find nothing online about the incident.  It did seem to have “news story” written all over it.  Or “horror story.”  I’ve watched enough MASH to know that doctors sometimes work in less than ideal conditions.  And there must certainly be standard procedures for what to do when the unexpected happens.  Colonoscopies are one of those highly recommended procedures that compromise dignity like few others.  As such, being interrupted by a fire drill puts this particular procedure into a class of its own.  I never look forward to them (few do) but now it seems I have a new worry to add.  What was really missing was a sense of closure.  Too often these days transactions of all kinds are left open-ended.  As the firetrucks came we asked ourselves, is it okay to go?


Waiting for the Sun

Waiting.  It’s difficult in the best of circumstances.  It’s even harder when dealing with multiple sources of delay.  For example: it has been unseasonably cool around here for a few months.  Looking at the US weather maps, it looks like we’ve got just about the coolest temperatures in the lower 48.  September is usually reliably a month where you don’t need the furnace in these here parts, but that’s not the case now.  A slowly moving weather system has blocked the sun for days and our poor old house just can’t warm up.  I feel like Noah waiting for some sign of hope.  The weather apps all say, “oh, two or three more days…”  Endurance, I remind myself.  Stoicism.  Still, we need some sun about now.  But that’s not all.

In addition to wearing three heavy layers and my fingerless gloves (in September—and this will last until May!), I’m also doing my prep for a colonoscopy.  In case it’s been a while—that means a liquid diet for a day.  I need to wait until this time tomorrow to have anything to eat and my teeth are on edge because the allowable fluids tend to be sweet and I really need something salty with a bit of crunch about now.  I see I’m allowed ice pops.  But did I mention that it’s cold in here?  If it were a normal year at least one of these two things wouldn’t been an issue at this point in time.  Nobody that I know of looks forward to a colonoscopy.  I know I’ll barely sleep tonight and the whole situation ends up looking downright Dickensian.  Chilly, hungry, persistent rain.  All I really need at a time like this is just some indication that the following days might improve.  Don’t look to the Weather Channel for support.  No, rely on your Stoicism.  Endure.

The trick I usually use on myself is to dangle a small carrot—lunch will be in just three hours!—to get through a long, chilly day.  (You’ll be able to eat something hot…)  I suppose giving up caffeinated beverages a few years back (when the last colonoscopy was well forgotten), might’ve been a poor decision.  I sure could use a Thermos of coffee right about now.  And one of those solar headbands that tricks you into believing you’re getting some sun.  Hey, September’s my second favorite month, after October, so shouldn’t waiting be just a smidge easier?  I’ve been waiting for September since last November.  And still I wait.  Such is the human lot in life.  Endurance is important, I know.  But a peek of sunshine (haven’t seen anything like it for three days) in September—is that too much to ask?  Or at least a hot meal.  What would Zeno do?  (Of course, he did live in sunny Greece…)