So first allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jeffrey, I blog over at www.fartooimportantblog.
Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and knew something was wrong? Well it happened to me last November. I woke up with the most severe pain in my right side. Believe it or not, I had had appendix problems before, but it had never been serious enough to take out. Well, after calling the hospital, they seriously told me that I should come to the hospital. I had just moved to a new state for grad school and didn't know the area well. As I was riding down in the elevator of my apartment building, I was trying to focus through the pain and remember where the hospital was. I finally got to my car and realized "dammit, I don't have my glasses." Was I about to waste more time and go back upstairs? No.
By the grace of a higher power, I managed to find the hospital. I checked in and when through all the paperwork. They finally take me back and this poor man has been tasked to put an IV in me. Needles and I do not get along. Not only did it feel like it took forever, I think I may have scared the man away from his chosen profession with my, considerably non-masculine weeping and screaming(because of the pain). I finally get some morphine in me, and I'm doing pretty good. The entire time I'm thinking, any second now they're going to come get me. Two hours later, I have fallen asleep. Yet again, I am awakened by the most dreadful pain you can imagine. I practically screamed at the top of my lungs. The poor man who had put the IV in me was doing the same to my mysterious unseen neighbor behind the paper wall. As I'm writhing in pain, he's coaching me like I'm giving birth. Well let me say, if giving birth was a fraction of what I felt, I have so much more respect for my mother.
Well, before they can get some more morphine in me, they decide this is the optimal time to come get me for the X-ray. At this point, I don't remember much. I remember lying on the machine, but that's about it. They must have given me something good without me noticing.
Next thing I know, I'm being woken up and told I have to have surgery ASAP and they need signatures. I manage to call my mother and my classmate. Next thing I know I'm in this room asking about things like "could you wax me instead of shave?" and "if you want to suck some fat out while you're in there, I'd appreciate it" with the nurse who was attending me. I'm still fairly loopy and unsure whether my candidness is a coping mechanism or drugs.
The doctor finally comes in to talk to me. He's talking. Naturally, I'm not understanding a word of it. Whether it was the big words or the drugs, I'm not sure. Finally, I stop him. He's looking at me like he thinks I have a question for him. Apparently, I did. I found out later that the words that then came out of my mouth are "Damn, You're cute. After this is over, you wanna go out?" From then on I really have no recollection of what happened until I woke up to see my professor looming over me. I was sure that I had died and gone to hell.
Well fast forward a week or two. I was recovering. I had already been to a physician to have my staples out and everything. I get a call from the doctor, but it didn't come up as the doctor's office which was in my phone. And we chat briefly about my recovery. About 5 minutes in he says "well, what I'm really calling about is...(pause)... you said you might want to hang out sometime and I was calling to see if you were still interested." Well damn, a doctor was asking me out. And his good looks had, indeed, not been a hallucination. He was fairly handsome for someone nearly twice my age. Me 23, him 45. We met a few times. We went out for a fancy dinner (in central Pennsylvania fancy is a relative term) and bowling (I schooled him so badly). We chatted a few more times, but, sadly, it didn't work out. However, I later discovered when the hospital bill came that, what my insurance hadn't covered, he had taken care of. I called and thanked him, and we still chat sometimes. In the end, it was a surprisingly fun experience, except for the painful part.
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