It’s 6 am in the morning. You walk through the doors of Long Beach Memorial Hospital expecting to be greeted by a friendly security guard but instead, there is no one around. The gift shop is closed. The admissions office closed. You walk past the elevators. Still no one is around. You walk down a long dark dingy hallway.
“Hello,” you yell, but no one answers.
You keep walking. Eventually you will see someone, right? You think to yourself, is this a bad dream? Should I turn around and go home? Why am I here?
You go past another set of elevators. At the end of the hall, you hear someone chatting. You make it to the door and a tall, big boned, African-American woman with one tooth smiles and tells you to take the first elevator to the second floor.
You walk into the elevator and press number 2. When you get to the second floor, you notice that there are still no people around. Now you really begin to have second thoughts, why am I doing this?
Your husband is with you and he tells you not to “chicken out.” “It will be okay,” he says.
Finally, you arrive at a desk with two people — an older Asian woman who says, “you’re late!” When you explain that you didn’t know where to go and could really use a valium, the other woman, an older, caucasian woman in her late 60’s with gray hair, says that she could use one too.
The Asian nurse takes you to a room where she does your blood pressure, and puts in a line for the I.V. You change into a “fashionable robe and shower cap” and you’re ready to go downstairs to the operating room.
The older woman wheels you down in a child’s wheelchair and you feel every bump along the way. “Don’t you have a bigger chair?” you ask. “Why, this one is perfect,” she says.
She places you in a holding area prior to the surgery. “Can I have a valium now?” you ask. “Hahaha,” she says and leaves you sitting in a little cubicle in your little wheelchair.
An Indian woman passes by and says hello to everyone but you. She looks at the chart. “Oh,” she says to you, “I guess you’re my next patient.” She’s dressed in very tight clothes and you could see the lines of her underwear. She’s also wearing high heels and you’re thinking to yourself, is that how she’s going to operate?
She disappears. Your doctor walks in and tells you you look lovely in the attire you are wearing. “Thank you,” you say and think, you still have time to leave.
A nurse wheels you into the operating room. It’s freezing. “What is it like 30 degrees in here?” you ask. “Yes, they keep it cold to kill the germs,” she says. “But, don’t worry, we have a heated blanket for you.”
The next thing you know, everyone is putting something on you and you have absolutely no control. You’re strapped on the table and then the Indian anesthesiologist puts medication in your arm and then slowly, slowly, slowly, you remember nothing…
You wake up to tubes in your nose and shots of demorol. Your doctor is talking with you but you don’t comprehend what he’s saying. “Is your husband around,” he asks and he leaves. The next thing you know, you’re upstairs with the Asian nurse again. She quickly comes back with a percocet and you sit and wait.
Now your leg is all bandaged up. You have a brace on it and can’t bend it. You’re feeling groggy. The next thing you know, a young man is helping you learn how to walk with crutches. “Do you have stairs?” he asks. “Uhh, yeah, I live in a high ranch” you say.
He shows you the stairs and now you’re ready to leave. “Okay, good luck to you,” the nurse says. And the older nurse wheels you down stairs….
