20 June 2017

Things Always Come In Threes

Summer sun, summer fun. Back to the (same) hospital – a coincidence of sorts. For the same surgery as three years ago (https://goo.gl/7K93i8) except that this time, it's for the lung on the right side (after two incidents on the left one). And no, I still do not smoke nor drink (not even coffee). There is however one difference with last time: I do try to come up with new, improvised jokes for the nurses and doctors.

On the hospital grounds, the day before the surgery

For instance, I entered the scanner's area asking the staff if I had indeed correctly entered the travel agency for my (alleged) trip to Ibiza. They did look at me a little embarrassed before realising I actually was sane of mind (true story) and only cracking up a joke, deadpan style. Or when asked how intense was my pain, I hesitated as a second nurse was about to draw my blood:

'I'd say the intensity of my pain is at 1 out of 10 but in a second, a square inch of my arm will feel a spike in pain that I estimate will be at 6 out of 10'.

Got to love data.

And just now, as I'm about to be shaved on the torso and arms (yay...), I confused the other nurse who entered my room a few seconds after the previous one:

'Sir, you don't need to undress, unless it's a strip-tease.'

'If it were a strip-tease, I'd charge you,' I replied.

Seeing them hesitate, I added:

'I'll give you a group discount.'

That sealed the deal. New. Career. Secured.

Other example: I took the excuse of the very warm weather to ask if I could get out of the hospital building and get some fresh air in the small hospital park. I put on my best smile and most innocent (blue) eyes and sure enough the trick worked: permission was granted. But I had forgotten one crucial detail: because of my condition, I was not allowed to do any physical activity, in particular running. So as soon as I went through the hospital doors, I started race-walking (yes, that awkward-looking type of sports: https://goo.gl/3NMPxw), swaying my hips like a maniac to move forward as fast as I could – and escape the hospital and specifically the surgery waiting for me. Let's just say I didn't get really far (I just had time to capture that 'selfie' I have attached below), easily caught by the security personnel who tackled me to the ground. I won't complain, the security guard was female.

I'm not particularly looking forward to the pain that's going to follow the surgery which is due to take place in a few hours – nor to the wasted time (there's always so much to do, see my previous post), feeling too numb to do anything, especially right at the start of the summer (I'll miss "my" Zürich lake). Oh well, things could always be worse – I could feel lost and broken too. Oh wait...

So here am I, stuck in a hospital room, making people aware that I will likely fail in sustaining my email responsiveness rate over the coming days. Thankfully, clone-393 is here to keep me company (https://goo.gl/QradZv), sharing some witty remarks from Confucius with me: “we have two lives, and the second begins when we realise we only have one".

PS: Can't beat summer fashion with this... I opted for the indoors operating theatre rather than the summer solstice outdoors public-viewing surgery – I think I exceptionally prefer to be cooler than too warm.

From my hospital bed