GETTING HIGH AT THE HOSPITAL

A few days ago I had to take my brother Gene to the hospital for a test, wait for him there, and drive him home. For those of you who don't know, Gene is a walking medical disaster who always has something going haywire with him. This time it began when he went to one of his many doctors with some complaint which I've forgotten, and the doctor ordered an abdominal MRI and, from it, tentatively diagnosed a kidney cyst. This doctor then sent him to Doctor #2, a urologist, who was dubious about this diagnosis and ordered a CAT scan, which showed no problem with the kidney but seemed to indicate something unusual about the pancreas. So Doctor #2 sent him to Doctor #3, a gastroenteroligist whom I will call The Gastro Guy.

Naturally, the Gastro Guy had to do his own test, which involved running a tube down Gene's throat, through his stomach, hang a right at the gall bladder, and peek into the pancreas. We had to be at the hospital promptly at 12:30 p.m., so of course it turned out to BE 3:30 before he showed up.

In the meantime, while we were waiting, we were entertained by a large family in the cubicle next to Gene's. Not exactly a cubicle, but a bed sectioned off by curtains. This was an older Mexican lady (I say "older," meaning about my age) being reassured by her husband, several grown kids, and a few grandkids. It was such a sweet family. Everyone was telling her everything was going to be fine, not to worry, it was just a simple test, etc. Some of this was in English, some of it in Spanish, and much of it in that back-and-forth mixture that is common around here. It is amazing how they can switch languages in the same sentence. And just before the nurse came to wheel her off, they all joined in a long prayer in Spanish--I think it was both an Our Father and a Hail Mary. It was really pretty touching.

I wondered if Gene felt somehow left out. I was the only family there. My other brother didn't come over from Oklahoma City, and his son didn't come up from Dallas. As for me, I was just whining, "I'm bored out of my skull--how long do they expect us to wait?" And grumbling, "I bet this is all a big waste of time." And as for praying, all I did was to say, when they finally came to take him away, "Thank God!"

He was gone about half an hour, and when he got back he was pretty high. In a few minutes the Gastro Guy popped in and talked to us. Gene asked him, "How did it go?" And he said, "Well, just fine, but I didn't find anything." Gene said, disbelieving, "Nothing?" Big shrug from the Gastro Guy: "I don't know what your other doctors saw--maybe a shadow."

Yeah, right. Shades of Groundhog Day. I guessed we were going to have six more weeks of winter.

Gene talked to him a little more, and then he left and Gene napped. He had to stay an hour for the anesthesia to wear off, so I had nothing to do but sit around and listen to the Mexcian family. For some reason Mama was still gone, and they were wondering why. Then finally here came the nurse, wheeling her back in. They all started talking at once--"Mama, how are you! How do you feel! What did the doctor say?"

Mama sounded a little high herself--"He say I'm gonna have a baby." They all started giggling, and her husband said, "No, you're not gonna have a baby." But she stood her ground, and said clearly, "Yes, the doctor say I am pregnant." One of the daughters asked, "What kind of baby are you gonna have, Mama?" And she said, "A boy." They all laughed again, and the husband said, a little exasperated, "No, you're not gonna have a baby!" She started getting a little drowsy at this point, her voice trailing off, but she informed them,"I'm gonna name him Martinez."

Later the doctor came by and I heard him tell her family that she had ulcers and was to stop taking Celebrex. Huh. No baby.

Gene woke up about the same time and asked me, "When is the doctor coming in? What did he find out?" I was amazed. All that time he had been talking to the doctor, he had been off on Cloud 9 and didn't remember any of it. So I told him, "He said he didn't find anything. He said you need to lose 20 pounds and about three doctors."