Last week it was my turn to go to the hospital. I pride myself on my pain tolerance. I mean, I've had three kids. And a root canal. So, when I felt some intense pain that reminded me of well, nothing I've ever felt before, I woke up my hubby and informed him, quite calmly, that we needed to go to the hospital.
The first sign that things would not be boring was the fact that the hospital was totally, completely dark, and we had to buzz the intercom to get into the also-very-dark waiting area. The mumbling desk clerk gestured in the general direction of the hallway, so we assumed that was where we were to sit.
The fact that the clerk had to call the doctor multiple times to rouse him from his slumber was apparently not enough to send us home.
However, when we both saw the ginormous rat...yes, RAT, hurtling himself down the hallway, we almost gave up. But no. We were committed. And still in pain.
In the interest of good taste, I will not describe the noises that were coming from the patient in the first room. Suffice it to say that he or she must have been visiting the hospital due to intestinal issues. Maybe that's why the rat was running.
Anyway, when the doctor finally woke up, he proceeded to examine me. Now, I always thought that charts, writing down blood pressure, medical history, weight, etc. was kind of important, but I was very, very wrong. I also thought that doctors checked the part of your body that actually HURT, but I have obviously never been to medical school. I'm not sure the doctor has either.
Apparently when your appendix region is in great pain, the correct area to probe is your leg and your toe. Go figure.
I digress. The nurse eventually came in to draw blood and to have me collect a sample in a used baby food jar (hey, it had been washed. I think), and the doctor, upon exiting the room, threw out an afterthought for Steve to answer. This was in Spanish, but I will translate:
Dr.: "She's never had any children, right?"
Steve: "Um. Yes."
Dr: .......silence......
Steve: "Three."
Dr: "But of course they were natural births."
Steve: "Um. No."
Upon which the doctor had to push the nurse aside, to see for himself if this were true. It was.
We eventually did leave the hospital with no real diagnosis, but I was amazed at how quickly I began to feel better at the thought of just going home.
The best part is, we got to visit our friends at the hospital again last night, after Steve decided to see if a saw was indeed able to slice through a nail and a finger. It is.
His hospital visit was much less exciting, although we are learning so much medical information each time we go. For example, did you know that a used water bottle is perfect for pouring some sort of cleaning liquid onto an open wound? And that cotton "pieces" (formerly known as sterile cotton balls or gauze) do not have to be sterile? They can be stored in strips of brown paper bags. Awesome.
We've had some great laughs in our medical adventures, but in all honesty, we have an excellent family doctor here, and we are very thankful for our local hospital. Rats and all.
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