Post subject: Tibs, ch 6 - Profopol Posted: Jan 29, 2006 - 03:25 PM
First post: Oct 17, 2004
Total posts: 9415
Location: 10 mins from Cas
Status: Offline
I’m woken in the morning and find about a dozen white coats around my bed. Doctors rounds, consultant complete with entourage come to see the English pony The consultant begins to talk, occasionally looking over at his registrar, standing on his right holding the notes. He explains what I’ve done, and what he’s going to do, he stops every few words and speaks in French. It seems to be a team effort, of the dozen or so in his entourage they all seem to know one word each. ‘Pins and needles’ causes the most problem, finally being translated by his registrar with a dictionary about 10 minutes after I say I don’t have it.
“You should be able to fly home on Saturday, and perhaps back to your friends in Alpe d’huez on Friday”
Yeah right, I’m outta here on Wednesday, you probably know that too, but we’re not going to argue about it now. I smile and nod my appreciation. Arguing with your surgeon before the op seems to me like asking for a divorce while your wife is giving you a blow job. Life is all about timing, something I’m generally good at, apart from a few howlers at the bash.
An hour later the anaesthetist appears. Gas men are gas men the world over, even when they’re actually a she Unlike surgeon’s they generally operate on their own, without an entourage following them. They come the morning the operation’s booked getting your weight and finding out if you have any allergies etc.
“You allergic to anything”
“Pain”
Ok, I didn’t say it, I do in England and considered responding “dolour”, but I’m not getting in above my head here
“You had operation before?”
“Oui”
“How many?”
“I don’t know”
“You don’t understand? How many operations you have before? Number? Yes?”
“No, I understand the question, I just can’t remember how many…About 10”
She asks me to show her, so starting at my feet we begin a slow journey up my leg, counting as we go, lower leg ankle and knee, 1, pelvis, 2 and 3, stomach 4, lung (via back) 5, shoulder 6, skull 7 and 8, wrist 9 and 10, left hand 11.
“Look, I can make your job easy”
“pardon?”
I hold the back of my hand out and pronounce ‘profopol’
“oui, that is what we will use”
Oh good, now I know I’m gonna be ok with no hangover when I wake up. White milky stuff, back of the hand. It’s been used in America for years, but only licensed in the UK for the past few years.
“Do you have anything else you would like to say”
I hold my hand up and pronounce “Profopol, and don’t feed it in too fast, coz that hurts!”
While we’re speaking a nurse comes in and hand’s me three small tablets.
“Swallow”
“I bet you do” I mutter.
I don’t normally take pre-med. To be honest it doesn’t do anything for me. It’s supposed to stop you from feeling nervous before the op…but I don’t feel nervous. A lot of people it sends into a ‘happy’ mood. Giggling like school-children and waving at everyone they pass. Listen, no matter how much drugs you give me, there is no way am I going to act like that All it does for me is make me sleep the rest of the day after the op.
There’s no way I’m going to try and argue with the nurse, so I put my hand to my mouth, take water and swallow. Before she goes the nurse tells me to call her if I want to go to the toilet as the tablets may make me unsteady on my feet. After she’s gone I quickly get up and put the palmed tablets in my backpack.
Soon a porter comes to take me to the operating theatre. I have fun acting like I’ve seen people on pre-med, waving my arm at everyone we pass. I can do the village idiot without drugs
_________________ The Disclaimer:
Tiberius is a socialist. His views may not necessarily be supported by his owner.
serfix-matt
Post subject: RE: Tibs, ch 6 - Profopol Posted: Jan 29, 2006 - 04:29 PM
Snowboard Club 
FAQ
Search
Register
Log in to check your private messages
Log in
Maximize
RSS Feed
The consultant begins to talk, occasionally looking over at his registrar, standing on his right holding the notes. He explains what I’ve done, and what he’s going to do, he stops every few words and speaks in French. It seems to be a team effort, of the dozen or so in his entourage they all seem to know one word each. ‘Pins and needles’ causes the most problem, finally being translated by his registrar with a dictionary about 10 minutes after I say I don’t have it.
