I had just called to talk with the doctor and get the results from some testing that he had scheduled for me to get done. It seemed a little strange that they wanted to do a “sono-gram” on me. I’m not pregnant and have not been visited by aliens from outer space that I know of. What are they going to look at anyway? Oh, but I’m way ahead of my self here. Let me start at the beginning.
…I just got back from the doctor again. What is it about all these tests? OK. Sure, I have complained. But not enough to justify seven different doctor office visits, each with some sort of test associated with it. The last one was for sleep apnea for heavens sake. I’m fast asleep within 30 seconds and usually don’t wake up more than once for a visit to the … well, you know the drill. Sleep is NOT one of my problems.
So I show up just like I’m supposed to. The specialist is a 45 minute drive from my home if there is no traffic. With traffic…it could take an hour or two. This little ‘candy striper’ of a nurse calls my name out and I follow her down the hall to the exam room. She instructs me to disrobe and she will be back in a few minutes. The gown she gives me won’t cover my ass much less any other parts. Luckily there is a towel hanging on the back of the door.
When she returns she sweetly smiles and says, “Oh, Mr. Maxwell, not that much! These gowns are only big enough to cover your upper body. I only need to see your chest and shoulders. I’ll be back in a minute”.
Crap. How could I have misunderstood her directions? No, I got it right. I saw that grin she had on her face. That little… I quickly put my pants, socks and shoes back on. Then I waited. Nervously. How can your toes get so cold so fast? And this gown, its not much more than half a baby crib sheet with a tie on it. I have tee shirts that are bigger.
Finally she returned. It was only then that I noticed her name tag. DR CHRISTINA. After all was said and done, my little candy striper nurse was the actual doctor! She didn’t look like she was more than a few weeks out of college or med school. I was stunned.
After a brief introduction, complete with a smile from ear to ear she started prodding and poked all around my neck, feeling for who knows what. This was about sleep right? What’s that have to do with the neck and shoulders.
The next thing I knew she had me strapped up to a machine with a bunch of little sticky pads placed all over my chest and neck. There was a mask that blew air in my nose and tube that had to go in my mouth. I looked like I was part of a Frankenstein movie scene. Then she said “you need to remember how to do this yourself tonight”. What? I wasn’t paying attention. There’s got to be 30 wires here. How am I supposed to remember where they all go? You got to be kidding me.
She checked a lot of things and somewhere in all this made the comment “this doesn’t feel right. You should get your thyroid checked. Oh, and make sure that you get this green wire on the top terminal of the control panel when you do this tonight. It won’t work right if you don’t and then we will have to do it again.” Not going to happen.
This is my last doctor’s visit for a long time. I’m not doing this test again. Who invented this thing anyway? How am I supposed to sleep with all this electronic junk hanging on me?
OK, I got it all wired up and settled down to go to sleep. How do you sleep with this mask on? And this tube blowing air in my nose, it was awful. I have two friends who use one of these masks every night and are almost afraid to try to sleep without them. They got to be nuts! Well, one actually is nuts, but that’s another story.
How do you roll over? All I did was toss and turn, well, actually, I just got mad. The more I tried to sleep the more uncomfortable I became. After some time I did fall asleep for what felt like only moments at a time. After 5 hours of this I gave up and ripped it off and threw it on the floor. Finally I could get some sleep.
Brrrrrrrrrrrr. It can’t be 5 AM yet, can it? That nasty alarm clock just went off and jolted me to a semiconscious state of morning breath and heavy eyelids. I slid out of bead and tripped on to the floor. That blank-ity-blank mask got me again. Somehow I managed to get my teeth brushed and my eyelids open long enough to pack that thing up and throw it in my truck. Boy, will I be glad to turn this in and be done with doctors’ visits for a long time.
A few days later I received my sleep apnea report. I have no problem sleeping at night! Just like I told them. I wonder how much that little episode cost the insurance company?
Oh, yeah, on the bottom of the report was a notice to report to another doctor for a sono-gram. What? A sono-gram?
