The next two week’s Funny Papers were about one-third written; they touched upon two subjects of which I had enough knowledge to write first drafts and then follow up with first-hand information. But a nagging little pain in my neck on Thursday morn had progressed to full-fledged pain in the neck by Friday eve. So now a King City in Bloom work period on Saturday morning was not something that was going to do me any good.
Just to add here: I really hate missing worthwhile events due to physical incapacity (I know I’m not alone in that). And with KCIB, the work is always more pleasure than chore, they are nice people and are assisted by nice people.
The column for this week would have included a few personal remarks about the new ag building; but by time of the tour on Tuesday afternoon, that was out of the question. I can remember what seems like not too long ago remarking to myself that I would never get to the point in old age where every conversation I had included a run-down of all my aches, pains and ailments. Well, as the old saying goes: If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans.
Seeking to avoid all the aspects of frailty, let me just say that by either late Monday night or early Tuesday morning I was in the same sweatshirt, sweatpants and et cetera for three days, without shower or shave, very little food and only a few short snatches of sleep. The pain was intense, and I finally had to do something about it. So, looking like a drunken man reeling down the roadway, I walked the three blocks to Mee Memorial Hospital’s Emergency Room. I had on a soft neck brace and was using the legs of a pair of sweatpants as more support. That was the first of four visits to either the hospital or the clinic, and by Wednesday afternoon I went home pain free after outpatient surgery on the offending vertebrae.
The care I was given upon my first ER visit was what one can expect in such circumstances and I was, after some discussion, given a shot for pain relief and a prescription for more pain relief. This was so I could follow up with the proper doctors in the next 48 hours or so, which was already a scheduled appointment. This having been my second trip in two months to the ER with the same problem, I assumed the same treatment would suffice. I was wrong and a few hours after having left the ER I was back again, but this time not under my own power. This second visit did not go so well. Imagine, if you will, a mechanic in his shop looking up and seeing a car he just worked on come back on a tow truck.
One must consider, if one is fair thinking, that ER staffs must handle a wide variety of cases with very little background information about the person they are seeking to help. In my case they had no easy access to X-rays or MRIs of previous visits and limited access to other of my medical history, so they must rely upon the information I give them. But in America today there is a very careful watch by medical people to not just inject or hand over opioid-based narcotics.
When once you have assuaged their fears that you are not someone just looking to get a fix of some kind, then they are more than willing to come to your aid. And they were good at it, the whole ER staff. But it was, apparently, a lot harder to convince them a second time and a lot of that had to do with my whole attitude. I can plead that intense pain, food and sleep deprivation, and appearing the second time in public unkempt and unclean, may be reason to be rude, but it is not excuse; there is no excuse.
But as I paced back and forth in the waiting room, sitting or lying down was far too painful an exercise to consider, I thought about all the times since the mid-1960s that I had been in Mee for one reason or other. And I thought about how over the years, no matter the outcome of all those visits, I have remained a staunch supporter of Mee and have used this column to voice that support and have in conversation always been one to speak well of the facility and its staff.
It was at this point when I asked the ER staff if I wrote a column about my visit, could I honestly write that it was a good visit. That was a big mistake because the staff had no idea who I was or of my past experiences with Mee, so I was accused of “threatening us with blackmail.” And that was when I went off the rails altogether. I will use this column to opine about many things, but I do not use it as a bully pulpit.
After that there was no way I was getting into that ER; the doc and the intake person, a frizzy blond-haired girl whose job is nothing more than a few simple tasks that any high school kid could learn in a half-day seminar, stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the doorway in a unified “Thou Shalt Not Pass” stance. So, I had to drop my drawers for another pain med injection in my rump while still standing in the waiting room; that was a new experience.
But that is all past now and I am once again back on my feet. And as always I will tell all who will listen that our little rural hospital has always taken care of me and I will continue to always be in their corner.
Take care. Peace.
