Don’t look at my butt unless you’re going to say something nice. No, on second thought never mind, just don’t look.

A few months ago I was in the hospital to have a tumor removed from my heart. I’ll wait while you feel bad for me….Done? Okay. It was a whole two weeks of sitting in a chair, lying in a bed, jumping out from behind a curtain to surprise the nurse, and a lot of my nudity on display. It was more fun than you would think. I have no idea why people don’t have more fun when they’re at the hospital. I let them cut me open, get up close and personal with my bottom, and I still managed to have a rad time.

I was rushed to into the ER by my awesome sister in-law (holla) because I had been experiencing facial numbness and my right arm went all stupid in the shower. By the time we got to the ER I was fairly out of my head and kept telling her she had to answer all the questions for me in case I died or fell, and everyone saw my panties and I was too embarrassed to get up. I don’t even know how that last part would have worked since I was wearing pants. When they got me into the back where they draw your blood, I could hear serious retching and squishing sounds. My sister in-law turned a lovely shade of green and pulled my wheelchair back. She made a gross face and whispered “that man is puking and shitting on that nurse”. I grimaced. I hoped they hosed him off before it was my turn. Wait. How in the hell was he shitting on the nurse? I must have had the question written all over my face because she shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” Then she gagged. I needed to see this poop marvel, but my wheels were locked. After a few more tense minutes the sounds of gurgling and moaning finally stopped and the man and his wife emerged with a tiny sick bag and wandered off down the hall, where I assumed, he would attack someone else with his parlor trick. I had to wait a few more minutes while the nurse cleaned up his station and hosed himself off, and maybe cried. I would have cried.

When it was my turn I couldn’t wait to see what the nurse looked like, but I was shocked to find a normal looking man in scrubs. Not a unrecognizable human covered from head to toe in poo and vomit. I have to admit it was little bit of a let down. Boy was I in for a surprise. His wounds were on the inside were you couldn’t see them. He may have been clean, but he was pissed off all the way to the sun and I was going to be his stress reliever. He popped me with the needle in four different places and my sister in-law’s eyes got as big as the new holes in my arm. I wanted to give him the time out signal and nonchalantly mention that maybe he should have a cookie break, but he seemed to prefer stabbing, and digging around inside my arm. Who was I to tell a man who’d just been shit on what do? He needed me to keep my clumsy mouth shut I think.

I found out when you are there for heart reasons everyone wants a good look at your boobies. They claim they just need you to take your bra off and lift your shirt so they can stick some stickers with wires all over your chest for “medical reasons”, but please, we all know that’s just a smoke screen. They wanting to see them mammaries. I think everyone on the first and second floor of that hospital got to see my hamburglars . The worst was the position at which they insisted these “medical procedures” take place. You would think lying flat would be the titties worst enemy. NOPE. I have found a more humiliating position than that. It’s ninety degrees. You’re lying back just enough so that your boobs slither towards your armpits and you’re sitting up just enough so that you’ve got a lot of unattractive fat rolls squished up. You get bonus points if you can sit with your legs in an ugly way. If you’ve stopped to ponder what would be an attractive position you lose because it’s a trick, there isn’t one. There isn’t one.

There are countless ways nurses and doctors attack your modesty and make you feel like you’re in some kind of weird sex cult. One nurse was helping me put my underpants on, yes I needed help putting my underpants on. She complimented my booty, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do in that situation. There have been very few situations when someone has been on their knees behind me and could see my butt and felt compelled to compliment it. I felt the only right thing to do in this situation was propose marriage and hope we worked out. She laughed and said she was already married. Damn, all the good ones are always taken. Oh, wait. I’m already married too.  I told her about my deep sense of modesty once we were all done with my drawers and I was safe back in my bed and she laughed some more, and said I wouldn’t be modest once I left the hospital. It filled me with a deep sense of dread and I wondered what more they could possibly do to me that could possibly take my last shred of modesty from me? Make me walk the halls naked? I’d carry my sense of modesty and deep seated body shame to my grave like the lady I was!

Up until that point I had only had female nurses. The next day I had a male nurse. I gazed upon him with a sour face, and wished him away with every fiber in my bitter little body. He would want to see my chest candy as well. I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t need not one more damn man in my life disappointed with the sight of my nude body. That glorious prize belonged solely to my husband. I tried to hatch a plan to get away from this male nurse. How in the hell did you get away from a nurse? I could hide out in the bathroom and claim diarrhea until I left the hospital, that might work. OR, I could just try to feign diarrhea until his shift was over. HA! It was perfect. Laughing to myself I shuffled to the bathroom only to be stopped before I got there by the man nurse himself. And what did he have in his hands? One of those damn telemetry machines with all those wires and stickers. No way, bro. I calmly tried to lie. I suck at lying, so I had just thought I would hole up in the bathroom and dump water in the toilet and make a bunch of groaning noises when he came by. I didn’t think I would be confronted with an actual person who would want an actual explanation. I couldn’t do it, so just I sat back down on the bed and cried the on the inside. I had one last line of defense. I had put my bra back on when I found out I had a man nurse. Maybe it would work. He asked a bunch of questions and was a serious chatty Kathy. It was like waiting to get punched in the face, and the person wanted to talk first. Then he came at me with it. Thankfully he had all of the stickers attached to the wires already so there wouldn’t be any extra looking for them under my gown like all the female nurses had done.

I don’t know what thoughts were going through his head, but I kind of feel bad for him now when I look back on it because I made the ugliest face I think I’ve ever made. It was a cross between a horse and a troll. Like a horse faced troll pooping. Brows all knitted together, mouth drawn down and open slightly. I’m not sure, but I think I was sweating too. I radiated hatred from every pore in my body and I’m sure he was very uncomfortable. He finished as quickly as I think he could have, and did it in utter silence. If I could send one apology to anyone in the world, I think it would be the male nurse who I frightened with my horrifying facial expressions of doom and extreme sweating. Below is my apology letter.

Dear Male Nurse Who touched my boobs,

I’m sorry dude. So sorry.  I didn’t want you touching my titties. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want to touch them either, but you were getting paid and my titties were on your list of duties. I’m sorry I scared you with my face. Are we cool? Are you okay? Can you still touch boobies without having flashbacks to my horse-troll face haunting you? I bought everyone on your floor candy, did you get any or were you too afraid of me after what I did? You know, I had planned on faking diarrhea to avoid you altogether. Maybe that would have been better for the both of us. I’m sorry I’m such a bad liar. I’m much better at lying by omission. You would have appreciated my sound effects. They were going to be awesome.

Yours,

The Lady who made the Horse-Troll face and scared you

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6 thoughts on “Don’t look at my butt unless you’re going to say something nice. No, on second thought never mind, just don’t look.

  1. Erin Burns May 5, 2015 / 3:58 am

    Sounds like more of a time then when I was in the joint. I was in one glorious easter weekend, so they were short staffed. Which means there was no one there to notice the big block letters and highlighting on my chart or the large font note I kindly took to the the food preparation department explaining my food allergies. So yep they let my morphine and then dauladid taking ass order ALL THE CORN. A word for the wise, try not to vomit after having sinus surgery.

    As I’m not particularly modest though, they had to ask me to put clothes back on, not take them off. Apparently nothing but this air compression boots and a big old glassy smile isn’t a good look for me.

    Liked by 1 person

    • wendyblack1 May 5, 2015 / 6:07 pm

      I would have paid good money to visit you in the hospital. You and your sister sound like the best patients ever. Please let me know the next time one of you decide to land in the hospital.

      Like

      • Erin Burns May 5, 2015 / 11:01 pm

        LOL, DeAnne and I are pretty funny on pain meds. Considering that same trip I came out of anesthesia unable to speak and only sign, and the following surgery I woke up in the middle of surgery again only signing (I think anesthesia turns off the verbal language centers in my brain), and no one understands that. On top of all the other stuff like my IV blowing out a vein and the pain meds just pouring out my arm so that I had to wait hours before they were sure it was safe to give me more pain meds, and then them fighting with me over whether a fever of 100 was actually a fever (my normal temp is 96.8-97 and that was ALSO IN MY EFFING CHART), I think if I ever again need surgery, I’m just going to stay home and eat cake and then lay down and die.

        Like

      • wendyblack1 May 6, 2015 / 1:15 pm

        LOL, I think is a good course of therapy. It may just cure you.

        Like

  2. Carly Ernst May 6, 2015 / 3:35 am

    So I giggled the entire time I was reading that. 🙂 I’m on the flip side of your situation. I think that people in the medical field forget that everyone doesn’t see naked people everyday. I literally see girlie bits and man parts everyday. I also get to see/smell/feel/drain all of the exciting things that people don’t talk about (I will not elaborate on this one) and help to fix them so that those things aren’t problems anymore. I have also seen and done things that would send my mother into a panic if she knew about. Once I exploded a dialysis machine. I literally looked like the girl from Carrie, not exaggerating at all, I had to shower and throw my scrubs away. I have also been punched, pinched, bitten, groped, and scratched. All of it pretty much is just part of the job and I don’t think anything about it. A vagina is literally about as memorable an elbow or big toe. Ask me what weirds me out and I’ll tell you- when people facebook during their pap smears. That is just unnerving lol.
    Facebook status – checking into room 2 “Pap it up!” With Carly Ernst!

    Like

    • wendyblack1 May 6, 2015 / 1:13 pm

      I would be too horrified to tap out a Facebook status while my doctor was checking my out my business. I stare at those inspirational posters on the ceiling and wish it all away. They must be truly free with their vaginas. I am not. My vagina is like the Illuminati, lurking in the shadows, pulling all the strings. You know it’s there, but you can’t say for certain. Do I even have a vagina? I prefer it that way. I prefer people to just believe I have no junk, kind of like a barbie or ken doll.

      Like

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