Trigger icon added for descriptions of hospital procedures; although this is an attempt at a humorous report of a hospital visit, some PCers may find the hospital references trigger bad memories.


Last week, from Monday through Sunday, I took advantage of a professional development opportunity for my position as a FDETS*, tests involving hospitalization with enforced sleep deprivation.

Results: The tests were able to elicit only meager evidence, but the preliminary conclusions are

• there's a 98% chance I'm not dead,
• there's a 85+% chance I'm alive, and
• it is unlikely I'm suffering from a serious neurological condition requiring surgery;
• some mystery remains.

Nurse: “Ready for the stick?”
I say: “Yes.”
I think: “Oh, this doesn't sound good. 'The stick' – hope that isn't a baseball bat...”

EEG Technician: “Lots of wires here...”
I think: “They're hooking me up to the Matrix!”

Nurse: “Call us whenever you need to use the restroom and someone will escort you to ensure your safety.”
I say: “Certainly. Thank you.”
I think: “Ah, nothing like having to be escorted whenever you leave the bed. With all these wires, I hope the escorts are electricians.”

Nurse 1: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 2: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 3: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 4: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 5: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
I think: “Nothing like a little repetition to reinforce the lesson.”

Nurse: “Just a little stick...”

Nurse: “Please pull up your gown and expose your belly. That's good, now one, two, THREE!”

EEG Technician: “You'll feel a little pressure...”

TV: “And this other great facial is based on snail secretions...”
Me: “Argh! Channel...controls...just...beyond...reach...”

Nurse: “Here are your morning meds.”
I say sleepily: “Thank you very much.”
I think: “Morning? Morning!? Grrr...”

Nurse (joking): “Would you like me to beat you up? I'll close the door, cover the cameras, and have at you!
Me (half-joking): “I'm sure I wouldn't enjoy that. However, if it provides the doctors with good, useful data that gets me out of here sooner, then go for it. Definitely.”

Me, to self in wee hours: “Infomercials and 'History of the Ku Klux Klan' – gotta love late-night programming...”

Disembodied voice of the EEG Observation Tech through an intercom: “Are you alright?”
I say: “Yes, I'm OK. Thank you.”
I think: “Note to self: Singing to myself and conducting invisible orchestras while listening to music are regarded as suspicious activities here.”

Nurse, one midmorning: “Would you like to do your birdbath now while I fix your bed?”

Nurse: “You'll feel just a little stick...”
I say: “Certainly. Go ahead. … Thank you.”
I think: “What's the deal with these 'little sticks'? They're obviously using a definition of 'little' I'm unfamiliar with. Hey, I have a low pain threshold! Of course, that's balanced out by tiredness and depressive apathy. It's one thing to be in pain and another to care you're in pain.”

Me, talking to the TV: “Adam's such a scoundrel. Sharon, he's lying again! Your baby is alive!”
Me, talking to self: “Rohag, you've reached a new personal low.”

Nurse: “So, this is your sixth consecutive night of sleep deprivation?”
I say: “Yes.”
I think: “I'm going for the record!” (Well, my record. I've had these tests before.)

Food Service (the first day): “Here's your lunch...”
I say: “Thank you much! Have a good day.”
I think: “Oh, goody. Institutional food.”

Food Service (the last day): “Here's your lunch...”
I say: “Thank you much! Have a good day.”
I think: “Food Service! Oh, thank the Heavens and may the day of your birth and those of your children be blessed! Lunch!!! Yum!!!”

Doctor, next to last day: “We'd love to see you have one of your 'major episodes,' but, even if you don't present, we're releasing you tomorrow.”
I say: “I'm sorry I've given you so little workable data. I'll do my best.”
I think: “Sleep-depriving an insomniac in a safe, benign environment isn't the way to go here if you want to see me explode.”

Nurse, day of release: “Not exactly Five-Star treatment, huh?”
Me: “I can't complain, but I guess this can't really be described as a luxury spa vacation.”
Nurse: “I'd be worried about you if you thought that.”

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*FDETS: Federal Deficit Enhancement Technical Specialist, also known as a FBPTS (Federal Bureaucracy Preservation Technical Specialist) – may refer to 1) a person on disability, 2) a congressman. Guess what I am.