“…no I don’t mean you Doctor, I’m sorry, you’re not a bitch, you’re…lovely, it’s the pain, the pain is a bitch, it’s…bitchy.”
Is what I said to the doctor anaesthetising my leg during my first ever minor (or otherwise) operation. This experience has prompted me to put together a little “Do and Don’t” list for anyone preparing to go through such a so-called minor procedure (I should mention at this point that I have quite a serious phobia of the method by which anaesthetic as administered, thus the complete and huge over-reaction to what I’m sure most other people take as a routine procedure):
DON’T: call your doctor a bitch. That one is pretty simple.
DO: start your day with a small to middling sized sherry.
DON’T: go alone, it’s always an embarrassing experience to find yourself tightly holding on to a nurse who really should be swabbing something and who is becoming increasingly uncomfortable with your invasion of their personal space. I have to confess that this is something I have previously learned from dentist appointments and therefore asked my father accompanied me (poor guy), which brings me on to…
DON’T: bring a professional musician with you. I was holding his hand so tightly that he started to worry that I was going to break his fingers and thus ruin his musical career forever. To be fair I think anyone would rather not have their fingers broken by a sobbing lunatic. He really was a jolly good sport about the whole thing.
DO: bring tissues.
DON’T: LOOK DOWN. Unless, of course, you enjoy watching people remove parts of your body with tiny but very sharp knives – each to their own.
DO: partake in a full body shower before you have the “minor op”. I was unaware of the don’t-shower-for-at-least-two-days-after-you’ve-have-a-weird-mole-removed-from-your-leg rule. ERROR. Thank the Lord for dry shampoo.
DON’T: ask why the plasticky bed thing that they make you lie on has gone a really sinister colour in the middle (the bit where everyone’s bottom lies), they won’t tell you the answer and I think it’s probably worse to wonder why than to actually know.
All in all I caused such a fuss that when I went to have my stitches removed this morning the nurse said “have you calmed down now?” Nice woman.
I normally try to sign off my blogs with some sort of picture or visual representation of my chosen subject however I am fully against publishing (on any forum) pictures of one’s wounds, scars, gashes or drip lines (you know who you are), plus if you actually saw what I am making such a big deal about you’d think I’m a complete knob.