This is Part 7 of my notes about my recent open heart surgery. To read what has come before use these links: Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6
“Naked I came into this world, naked I shall depart”. I’m pretty sure if Job had ever been in the hospital he would have added a line about naked in the hospital. Hospital and Modesty are two worlds that do not go together. As I write this it has now been four weeks since my Quadruple Bypass Open Heart Surgery. I was in the hospital a total of two and a half weeks as a result. Whatever dignity, modesty, or shy tendencies I had before entering the hospital are now long gone.
It got into full swing the night before the bypass surgery. My nurse told me I was going to take two showers to get ready. That was fine, I like being clean. What I didn’t realize is that I would require assistance. The hospital left nothing to chance, so the nice lady nurse made sure I was squeaky clean. And afterward clothes were not essential. In fact my underpants were replaced with the wonderful gown that allowed me to moon anyone unfortunate enough to be behind me.
After the surgery the fact that I had no clothes on didn’t concern me because the pain and lack of motion had my full attention. There were so many tubes and monitors hooked up to me even the gown they had me wear had holes in the pockets to let the various gizmos pass their wires from the monitor to the body sensor. The process of periodically changing gowns left me in my birthday suit for the world to see.
Then there was the evening I checked into the inpatient rehabilitation hospital. That was fun. A nice young nurse came in a told me what they were about to do was standard procedure. Okay, I like standard procedures I guess. She went on to say that they needed to inspect my entire body to examine any and all skin issues, wounds, bumps, freckles, and oddities. And she made certain I understood this meant every inch of my body. Oh, and to add to the fun her assistant, another nurse would be helping. And I must admit – after taking my clothes they did inspect everything. Thoroughly. They found parts I didn’t know I had.
In the hospital the staff work overtime to be sure you are safe. That means when you are a fall hazard like me they don’t want you to leave your bed or wheelchair without assistance. Every time I had to pee I had assistance. Sometimes in the room with me. Not real private. It wasn’t exactly dignified. But after a day or two I became used to it. Then one morning I was told I was going to get a shower. Yay! After being limited to sponge baths for a few days I was ready for a shower.
That is when a young lady occupational therapist showed up. She said she was there to help me learn how to take a shower without disturbing the incision on my chest or the wounds in my leg. And I can attest that she had no fear of getting wet or compunction about helping an old naked man shower. Did I mention modesty and dignity? Nope, none here. But while writing about this I must admit that the nurse and all her fellow employees always maintained the highest standard of propriety and professionalism. They did nothing even remotely wrong. Nonetheless, I can honestly say standing buck naked with my 9 inch chest incision, bruises, and wounds on my leg I didn’t feel any great sense of pride or power.
There were more embarrassing moments I encountered too. My hat is off (okay that’s a pun considering everything else is off too) to the nurses and doctors who encounter the human body in its many forms. Most of those, like mine, would not be classified in some category that would be enjoyable to look at. Some would even be tortuous to view. And yet nurses endure those views and the bad attitudes that often accompany them day after day. Kudos. Now, “give me back my clothes!”
Part 8 is next….