The great Ernie Banks had such a joy for baseball that his catch phrase was "Let's play two!". And as luck would have it, it looks like I'm going to get a shot at starting the second game of the double header. In truth, ten days ago it didn't look so good.
It started four months ago with a noted shortness of breath when walking (which we do a lot of here in South Beach), I often wrote this off to the heat which is not uncommon here. It got worse, but it had come on so quickly I assumed it might be walking pneumonia and got some antibiotics. That didn't work and I became reluctant to go far from my residence, but I was able to stay busy because the grounds around my building are great for shooting. It had finally come to the point that I'd want people to drop me off close to the agencies or where ever we were going because I didn't want to walk a couple of blocks from the parking lot. In short, my life was closing in on me, and I knew it. By Christmas my legs had started to swell, particularly around the ankles.
Sooooo.......What does any rational person do? Go to the doctor, right? What part of I'm a guy did I leave out? We go on a stretcher, ask any doctor. It may be stupid (it is of course), but it is the way of the male. It works like this, if you go to the doctor, you are sick. If you don't go, you aren't! This logic is related to the "if my eyes are closed, I can't see you and therefore you can't see me!"
Then, when I'm so shut down I can't even bend over to pull my socks on (fluid is collecting in my lower abdomen, my stomach is so pooched out I can't put a belt on), I get lucky! I develop a bladder infection (it does happen to men, unusual, but it happens) and start passing blood and it's painful! After five days of this I also lose some control of my bladder, so why am I lucky? Now I HAVE to see a doctor! I call Christian and he recommends a doc who will see me that day and off I go. The doctor gives me the antibiotics, puts his stethoscope on my chest and............his eyes get as big as saucers! Even I know this is not good. "You're going to die, today, tomorrow, five months from now, but the clock is running. You must go to the hospital now, here is an admittance order!"
It is so ridiculous, I'm actually thinking "let's just go home and let me take the antibiotic and maybe with a little rest I'll be fine." Yeah, like having a
resting pulse of 160 to 180 will just pass with a nap. Fortunately Dave the Fireman had been threatening to have his buddies show up with an ambulance and hall me off for the last week, and Christian is yelling at me, so I go to Mt. Sinai. All of this sounds bad, it was, but it has a happy ending after a great adventure. So follow along as I descend into Dante's seventh ring, the days of the Doctors!
Admission is quick (they want to keep me from relieving myself on the waiting room floor) and I get pulled into the initial treatment room. There begins this very efficient treatment process that starts with the careful (but complete) removal of all of your dignity. You get naked and they give you a "gown" which makes me look for all the world like "Zippy". And it's open at the back which I thought was bad, but then it got...bad. Christian has followed the excitement up to this point, but then the admitting male nurse slipped on a latex glove and said (I'm not making this up), "I'm your new boyfriend!" Oy! I'm a virgin! I think I caught a twinkle in his eye, but all the noise was Christian running for the door. "See ya, Fish, call me when you can have visitors!"
Ah, it wasn't that bad, certainly not as bad as I had imagined, but now they own me. Not a shred of dignity left, and that will be a good thing for the next eight days.
Tomorrow, the search for reality complete with twenty four hours a day watching Telemundo ( I don't speak Spanish, my roomate does not speak English!), becoming the centerpiece of some misplaced script for "House", and the real meaning of medical terms like "This won't hurt" and my personal favorite, "You may experience a little discomfort."
Fish
IP: 72.144.101.64
IP: 74.225.159.16
Remember, photography is supposed to be fun!
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