Wednesday, September 22, 2010

LSU Medical Center

About five or six weeks ago a medical condition made itself known to me. Over the course of one week, I grew a third butt cheek. I'll spare you the vile details, but I had a boil on my ass the size of a golf ball. Like all medical problems I chose to ignore it and deal with the excruciating pain. I haven't been to a doctor since '04 and I wasn't going to break that streak. The sitting sideways on one cheek for the month of August threw out my back, leaving me shaped like a question mark.

My roommates noticed my irritability and sleeping about 16 hours a day. Fearing blood poisoning and the red tape of a death in the house, I was dragged from bed yesterday. Out numbered, my infected and putrid ass was forced to go to the hospital for antibiotics. I applied for and received a Louisiana Medical Assistance card two months ago. At my age, internal organs can start to go like a squeaky water pump on an old car. It's best to ready if it does.  I despise medical treatment. Survival of the fittest I say.  The flu, infections, injuries, if you can't heal it yourself than perhaps you should just croak and leave resources for the healthy.

Bum rushed out of the door to the Emergency Room of LSU Medical center I had little time to compose. Being told I should expect to be there a while, I underestimated the warning. I rolled enough cigarettes for 5 or 6 hours, swigged enough coffee for two. My landlady kept trying to give me a bag with sodas and candy bars. No, I can handle a few hours without a Snickers. It can't be that bad, it's not like we have socialized medicine. Long, inhumane waits and suffering indignities of a third world medical system as found in Great Britain and Canada. I've gone through the old New Jersey DMV, Inspection stations and municipal courts, I know how to wait.

I entered the Emergency room about 10:00 am, I did not leave until 10:00 pm. Twelve hours in a waiting room. I thought 3 maybe 4, 5 hours tops. By 3 pm, I was out of nicotine and my caffeine level was dangerously low.  Prisoners from various correctional facilities were ushered in ahead of everyone else. Most everyone in the waiting room took the hours in stride. I guess for people used to waiting on rooftops for rescue helicopters, twelve hours is nothing. I vowed to myself that I would choose death over this experience ever again.

I finally got in to see a doctor about 7:30 pm. Terrific lady who had the misfortune of having to look at my ass. Luckily for her the cyst had broken almost a week ago, sparing her the gruesome task of draining it.  I started to believe it might have been my mutant twin brother who had been stuck in my ass from the moment of conception. After nearly 50 years he decided to make himself known. I mean this thing was big and ugly.

The staff was great, professional and pleasant. I was returned to the waiting room by 8 pm where I sat watching a Saint's game until my prescription came out at 10 pm. The only way I will ever return to the hospital is unconscious and unable to resist.

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