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Aug 25, 2004 I was admitted into the hospital on Sunday night/Monday morning. My legs went numb. Completely numb from the knees down. I couldn't walk, I couldn't move them... nothing. The ER doctor told me I would be needing a Lumbar Puncture (LP), or spinal tap, because they suspected I had a certain syndrom that causes paralyzation in the legs and works its way up to lungs, making one unable to breathe. And since breathing is considered a very important part of survival, it's considered very dangerous. So, as I was saying, I was told I needed an LP, but since I was alone and being admitted anyway, I asked if I could delay the LP until the next day when I could have someone with me to hold my hand. I can handle epidurals and c-sections, but the LP just wasn't flying with me. The doctor said that was fine and I was admitted to the second floor care unit. The next morning, I was woken up by a doctor, a neurologist, with the biggest, baddest attitude I've ever seen in another human being, let alone a doctor. She explained the procedure that she would be doing to me, quickly, and without allowing me ask any questions. She also told me that I needed an MRI to check for lesions in my brain and such. Never once was allowed to ask her a question. She was in and out quickly, telling me that I should get someone to the hospital to be with me by 1:00pm because she would be back to do the procedure then. And then she was gone. My cousin, Sunday, and our friend, Tina, came to the hospital at 12:15. My roommate, Joe showed up at 3:30. Around 4:00, the doctor arrived, with an aire of "I don't want to be here, this is wasting my time." and told Joe and Tina they had to leave the room. The nurse gave me some medication to calm my nerves and the procedure began. The doctor started off by digging her nails so deep into my back that I yelled "Stop!". I began to panic, fearing that if her nails hurt that bad, how bad was the LP going to be. The nurse to me to calm down, that they were going to administer novicaine, and that while I would be uncomfortable, I wouldn't really feel pain. The Great Doctor intrrupted her, saying that it would be "painful, very, very painful. And if you move you're in a boatload of poo-poo." At this point I was so nerved up that Sunday looked at the doctor and told her that I would no longer be able to do it because I was so scared there was no way I was going to be able to not move. The Great Doctor packed up her things, said okay, and left. And as she was leaving she turned to the nurse and said, "Can I have a Xanax now?" In defense of myself, I am not really a wuss when it comes to medical procedures. I've had two c-sections, one with an epidural, and one with a spinal. I've had a D&C and countless woman necessary tests done. But with every one of those procedures, there was a doctor who was understanding towards my fear and apprhension. There was always someone who would stop and tell me what would be going on. This woman, this doctor, did not do that. I became so afraid I turned down the procedure that would say if I had a specific disease that could be potentially life-threatening. Turns out, I didn't even need the procedure to begin with. Seems that a virus is attacking my central nervous system and that is what is stopping my legs from doing their duty. My biggest question is what happened to the bedside manner that doctors are supposed to learn in the first year of med school? Why did the doctor feel it necessary to instill more fear into an already feared situtaion? I don't think this article has much of a message as much as it has a complaint. I hope that this reaches a few people in the medical profession and they know (if they don't already know) that when you are lying in that hospital bed, you're not your normal happy self. You're scared, you're confused, and you need answers. I hope no one else meets the same kind of doctor that I had the displeasure of meeting this week. ------------ About the author L.J. Chapman: I have two children and I live in Massachusetts. I am engaged to be married on October 8, 2005. I have written some poetry for poetry.com and I am in the middle of writing my first novel "The Checkered Blanket". Email: bipolar_bear80@hotmail.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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