…optimistic. Sarcastically, the doctor said, “So you missed me huh?” Annoyed, I told him that my symptoms had not gone away. He questioned, again, the culinary choices I’d made since last seeing him. I ignored him and stated that I believed it might have been my gallbladder. That dude further annoyed me with his mocking attitude by responding that there was no way it could be my gallbladder because I wasn’t in enough pain!
Then I became hot and went on to tell him that that’s the reason I didn’t want to answer their stupid, “What would you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10; 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest?” question, (The tech asked me this question the night before and I told him that they rely solely on that answer when considering what measures to take and I didn’t want to answer it, however, they were not happy with me at all and so, I gave them a number…4)! I related to him that my resistance to pain is very high. In spite of my rating the pain at a 4, it is equivalent to someone else who may rate it 9 or 10.
The ER doctor seemed to be a bit astonished but he quickly regained himself by saying that he was considering something else but needed to, “look-it-up.” I made another attempt at having him order an ultrasound for my gallbladder by telling him about the research I’d done; it seemed undeniable. He stated that with it being a weekend, the Radiology Technician was on call…he didn’t want to “ruin” his weekend! Then again, he mentioned my pain level, arguing that there was no way I would have been able to walk into the emergency room, (though I WAS actually wheeled in the evening prior), nor would I have lasted through the night and all day.
Silly Physician, he didn’t know WHO my real PHYSICIAN was!
So, off he went, but, returned with a female tech, examination gloves, and lubricating jelly; he claimed that he needed to perform a rectal exam, NOOOOOOOOOO! Humiliating! That man had the ignorant audacity to say to me, “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. You wanna know what’s going on right? Just bend over and it’ll be quick.” Yes, people, he really said it and yes, I remember it word for word! I literally curled into a ball when he was done. I felt violated. No jokes this time, I’m serious.
Twenty minutes later, Doctor “You’re Not In That Much Pain” returned to tell me that the rectal examination revealed nothing and he’d ran out of ideas so he paged the General Surgeon, (who performed the FNA back in June of ’04), who told him she wanted an ULTRASOUND! He had to page the Radiology Tech! Ironically, they both arrived at the same time; therefore, she was in the room during the ultrasound. They pointed at the screen, whispered and put their hands over their mouths. They quickly took them down once they realized I was watching. The General Surgeon immediately left the room while the Radiology Technician told me he was done and that I should go back to my room and wait for the ER doctor.
Doctor “You’re Not In That Much Pain” entered the room, with his eyes deeply studying the floor and said, “Ummm, you’re gonna have to stay, uhhh the surgeon will be in here to talk to you.” He never looked at me. The General Surgeon came in 10 minutes later; she looked at me with a scary gaze and said, “Mrs. Norvell! I’m exaggerating a little, but you have about a million gallstones! I need to get you set up for surgery!” She admitted me as a surgical candidate at one-thirty in the morning.
Since I was able to walk to my new room, I stopped by the main room where the ER staff camped out and said thank you to the ER doc. Still not making eye contact, he said that it was no problem and waved me on my way.
Someone else had been admitted shortly after me with an ailment that required him to be quarantined so they moved me from the surgical ward to the OB/Gyn ward, (remember, this is a clinic I’m at with limited capabilities and space), and my surgery was postponed for the next day. Well, the next day didn’t turn out so well for the quarantined patient; he required emergency surgery. Therefore, my surgery needed postponing again. On the third try, the General Surgeon performed an emergency appendectomy in the middle of the night, and so, on hold I went again.
All the while, because of the General Surgeon’s concern that eating or drinking could cause more damage, an I.V. inserted into my arm provided me with fluids and nourishment. I couldn’t eat, y’all, and I LOVE to eat!
Finally, on day four, a wheelchair transported me to the waiting area before surgery. A nurse told me to empty my bladder, after which he dispensed a pre-op relaxation medication into my I.V. tubing and charged me to lie back…
“…She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse…fell at His feet and trembling with fear, told Him the whole truth…” Mark 5:25-34 NIV