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Author Topic: Shingles  (Read 6545 times)

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Craig

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Shingles
« on: February 15, 2007, 07:35:20 PM »

Bubba had Shingles

Those of us who spend much time in a doctor's office should appreciate this! Doesn't it seem tha t more and more that physicians are running their practices like an assembly line? Here's what happened to Bubba:

Bubba walked into a doctor's office and the receptionist asked him what he had. Bubba said, Shingles. So she wrote down his name, address, medical insurance number and told him to have a seat.

Fifteen minutes later a nurse's aide came out and asked Bubba what he had. Bubba said, Shingles. So she wrote down his height, weight, a complete medical history and told Bubba to wait in the examining room.

A half hour later a nurse came in and asked Bubba what he had. Bubba said, Shingles. So the nurse gave Bubba a blood test, a blood pressure test, an electrocardiogram, and told Bubba to take off all his clothes and waited for the doctor.

An hour later the doctor came in and asked Bubba what he had. Bubba said, shingles. The doctor asked, Where?

Bubba said, "Outside on the truck. Where do you want them?"
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iris

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #1 on: February 15, 2007, 08:11:47 PM »

Hi Craig,

That was funny!!!  ;D  ;D  ;D


Iris
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PKnowler

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #2 on: February 15, 2007, 08:14:01 PM »

Ha ha ha!  :D :D :D My (late) father would have liked that one
he was a roofer and he loved jokes.

Thanks!  ;)
~Paula
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rrammfcitktturjsp

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #3 on: February 15, 2007, 08:15:48 PM »

Craig,

  That is very sad but very true.  I hate going to the doctor's becuase I get tired of answering the same old dang quesitons over and again.  I have always wondered why they do not take time to read the charts or act like they are smart or even care about you.  I was considering of going into the medical field, but I hope to God I never can look upon another human being as money walking through the door or as an "interesting case."  I wonder if they teach one how not to care.  One of the hardest things, I had to ever do was be the one who broke bad news to some parents of a 7 year old that I had the great honor of watching in the OR as doctors and  I got to help hand the instruments to them and observed the surgery when I was 18 years old.  I remember when the flat line and the alarms were ringing, I remember going to my knees in the OR just crying.  It only the day before that I had talked for hours with the little boy and his family as well as the supervising doctor whose wings that I was under and listening to him talk about playing baseball and the chance of life.  Before the surgery, we had talked with an old and bitter woman who had nothing but complaints.  This old woman had hurt my feelings so much and yet I pitied her.  But when the alarms were going off and tears were streaming down my face, I could not make sense of it.  Why would this little boy who wanted nothing more than to play baseball with his Dad soon and be a big brother to his baby sister who had so much enthusiasm in life die, while there was an old lady hating everything about life and everyone still alive.

  I remember that my mentor at this time told me he was going to allow me to do something that would forever decide me career in medicine.  He said that he would go with me and I was to be the one who broke the news.  He said that in medicine you are taught to not care and empathize, becuase most patients are not looking for friends but a doctor.  I knew, as well as he did, that I probably overstepped my boundaries on this one.  I care very much for people and wish to only help them to feel better or for things to look better around them.  I will never forget that walk down the halls of the hospital seemed so long.  When we met the family, I knew my mentor was behind me.  This happened on 2/15/ when I was 18 years old.  All I could do is say the facts of what had happened on the operating table.  At this point, I could not say any more and just stood in the hall and cried.  I remember the family coming up and just embracing me.  I also remember my mentor coming up and putting his hand on my shoulder, and me looking into him and seeing the tears running down his face.

  When I went to the boy's funeral later that week, his parents presented me with a baseball, that he had hit his only home run with.  I still have the baseball somewhere and always Valentine's Day brings up the memories of him.

  I do not know what started me on this, except to say, there are many things that are happening in the world.  Couples being driven apart, new loves being formed, and so much more, but one day we will all be able to hold eachother as I and that family did in the cold hall with so much love and fellowship.

  Thanks for letting me share this.  My heart has been heavy with the memory of this.  Susan, the more that I think on that little boy and the people that I have come across, I am being led to once again consider this medical field, and not pressured from my parents or anything.  It will be a long way off, but I can always thrill to feel the wonderfulness of being allowed to experiance another's pain and to help them through it.  I would and feel that my area of medicine if I went to work in it, would be children's or children's oncology.  I know from this experience that I do have what it takes to go forward with this difficult career.

  Music and Mathematics will always be a part of my life.  Pray as this has provided me a time out and I am seriously trying to discern what God wishes me to do with my life.  I know he wishes me to be the best wife that I can be to David and the best Mommy David-Lee can ever have, but I feel that there is something more that I am called to.

  Sorry Criag, it is funny how something humerous can turn into something deep.  Thanks, I needed to let go of this.

  Sincerely,



  Anne C. McGuire
« Last Edit: February 15, 2007, 08:24:10 PM by rrammfcitktturjsp »
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PKnowler

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #4 on: February 15, 2007, 08:59:28 PM »

Wow  :( Anne you sure know how to sober up a thread.  :(  I can understand how you would need to share this story today though! It being the exact day ??? years later. That would be a hard thing to observe and then to be the one to tell the parents  :'( that would be heart wrenching. How precious that they gave you the ball that he made the home run with. As a parent I may have been selfish to keep it myself. They must have thought highly of you. Thanks for sharing with us the burden of these painful memories. God bless you for having such a tender heart!

Love (phileo)
Your Sis in Christ,
~Paula
« Last Edit: February 15, 2007, 11:44:07 PM by PKnowler »
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rrammfcitktturjsp

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #5 on: February 15, 2007, 09:05:18 PM »

Paula,

  It was funny.  And yet it reminds me of so much good in the world these days.  There is good everywhere that I look or potential for good. 

  I needed to add to the prior post that, he had his bat in the hospital and we often would play some ball down on the grounds or in the hall.  He asked me if I believed in heaven, and I told him in a way I did.  He would often let me see and hold his baseball and tell me that when he went to heaven, to look for him with his bat up there and we would play ball.

  I also remember when they were wheeling him into the OR, I did lose it and begin to cry becuase it was a risky and experimental procedure, and I remember apologizing to him and moving to leave the room.  I remember him taking my hand and saying, please do not go.  I am glad that you are crying becuase you care.  I want you in here.

  I am so glad that I can care no matter what.  I may get my heart trampled on many times, but at least I know that I will have made a little difference in this great big world.

  The forum has taught me this as did this little boy.

  I wanted to end on a positive note.

  Sincerely,



  Anne C. McGuire
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iris

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Re: Shingles
« Reply #6 on: February 16, 2007, 12:08:20 PM »

Anne, that was so sad.  :'(


Iris
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SandyFla

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #7 on: February 16, 2007, 03:53:26 PM »

Anne,

Did you ever think about becoming a chaplain, social worker or counselor? They work with directly with people who are grieving. From what you wrote, it seems you would be a good one.

Just a thought ...

Sandy
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rrammfcitktturjsp

  • Guest
Re: Shingles
« Reply #8 on: February 16, 2007, 04:00:03 PM »

Sandy,
 
  The field of pychiatry has been one that is interesting.  I would love to help young kids and work with that age group, as I have a precious son and would hope that his doctor would be concerned and caring about him as much as I do.  Dr. Farmer, his ped, is co caring and loving toward my son.  When he was born last June, we did not have a ped picked out, and I remember standing at the nursery window watcing Dr. Farmer and seeing him stop and pat the babies and talk to them.  I saw their hands reaching toward them and I saw his hands cupping those little small hands.  I watched and waited when he approached my son and I saw them interacting with eachother.  I thrilled.  On the second day, he had just started having breakfast <grins> my son, and the nurse told me that the Dr. was on his way to check on him.  Now having only been accustomed to B. Feeding for only day and much less than two days, I told the nurse that my son was to eat uninterrupted.  And the doctor understood.  My precious son finished in 45 minutes later and the doctor himself came to the room and understood my concern, and never pulled that Patient vs. Doctor nonsense.  He looked beyond that and saw a very tired new mother who wanted nothing but the best for her child and that she was going to make him, the doctor, wait until her son was taken care of.  He did tell me, that I was one of the few that had the guts to stand up to him.  After that, he was our pedi and still is.  My son adores him.

  I have thought about counseling, but there is something just holding the hand of a little one and to provide a buffer for them.

  God may call me to this, but I would rather be in there in the heat of the battle helping these little ones.  <wipes a tear from my eye while smiling at my son>

  Sincerely,



  Anne C. McGuire
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