“So, what’s your most-embarrassing story?” came the inevitable finish to my friend’s recent share. Honestly, I am unable to top her story (sorry, I must keep it confidential). At that time, I was scheduled to visit one of my most embarrassing stories (we call him Dr. Z); he is my neurosurgeon in Tampa. My friend’s question jarred loose the memory of when I first met Dr. Z. I know I have mentioned my surgeries in earlier posts, but I don’t think I ever told you about my neurosurgeon or the first time I met him. Well, as I forewarned, it is a little embarrassing, but here goes.
I sat in a comfortable lounger chair on Laser Spine’s fourth floor, with a nurse on one side of me who asked questions and fed my answers and electronic signatures into her computer, and a nurse-practitioner on my other side, who slipped a plastic clip over my index finger and proceeded to insert my I.V. Blip… blip… blip, went the little blood pressure monitor. It was not, as they say, my first square dance; it was, in fact, my 12th. So, I was pretty chill about my impending surgery and the monitor loudly proved it. The nurse read my list of medications back to me. Are there any changes or additions? She asked me. Blip… blip… blip went the monitor.
Blip..blip..blip..blip.blip.blip.blipblipblipblip! Both attendants, wide-eyed, swung their heads my way at the sudden, surprising spike in my blood pressure.
“Oh my goodness, is that one of your doctors?” I asked about the Adonis-in-green-scrubs who had already left my field of vision, lost behind the damn curtains that cordoned off my chair. In short order my blood pressure returned to a normal, measured pace. The nurses laughed. One of them told me the Greek god-in-green was called, Dr. Z, and yes, he was, at times, a distraction. I blushed three shades of red. Then I swore them both to secrecy when I’d caught sight of the doctor again, and he had looked to be headed toward my side of the room. In no time, Dr. Z had reached my curtained alcove; when he’d begun walking passed, the ridiculously loud monitor went haywire once more. I was horrified. Of course he noticed the noise. He stopped directly in front of my chair and looked my way; I remember giving my nurses a meaningful look. Then the gorgeous surgeon was at my side, having found a small stool with wheels on which to perch. He lifted my I.V. hand, held it in his and patted me lightly. He told me, “There is no need to worry. I am Doctor Berecski and I will be performing your surgery. I am going to take good care of you.”
I only nodded, dumbly. For that moment, my brain was quite stuck on a singular thought: oh, wow, he has an adorable accent, too?
My blood pressure did return to normal again, after he left my sightline. The had nurses resumed their laughter. “You guys promised,” I reminded them. They told me not to worry. They said everyone had the same reaction when first they meet Dr. Z.
My husband, who is by nature a man of few words, accompanied me on this latest trip (I had surgery one week ago, today), and he met Dr. Z while I was in the post-surgery Recovery area. My husband stayed silent about the doctor throughout my discharge process. He remained silent in the elevator ride to the lobby, too. But once through the automated glass doors of the hospital I could wait no more. “So, besides being a brilliant neurosurgeon, what did you think of Dr. Z?” I asked him https://www.tragedyinfo.com/karen-hastie-williams-obituary-death-karen-hastie-williams-cause-of-death/
He glanced at me briefly before saying, “well, he obviously works out.”
Another Aside (can I do that? Is that allowable by the literary powers-who-be? Oh, I don’t care. I’m doing it):
That story about Dr. Z was not, by any means, my most embarrassing moment-which, it so happens also occurred in a doctor’s office (in the stirrups, as they say), but when I was 9 months pregnant (a long, long time ago). The incident involved the little plastic bell at the end of the cord to some Levelor blinds, and my bored big toe… but for the rest of the story, you will just have to use your own imagination. *I bet you can figure it out for yourself, but here is another puzzle piece… the window the blinds were covering faced the medical office entrance (yeah, that happened… )
Anne is currently the author of three historical fiction novels with a fourth in progress. Her debut novel, “the thing with feathers,” is a noir saga in historical fiction and was very well received. The Innkeeper-turned-writer’s second novel, “BODIE”, was awarded a silver medal for Original Softcover Fiction at The WILLA Literary Awards in 2014. Her latest release, “Grog Wars,” took 1st Place in the international writing competition held by WritersType.com, in March 2013.