The Real Truth About My Surgery: Part 3

"MURDER!"  I screamed and the nurse came running past my curtain.  I just kept screaming.
"He wrote MURDER!"   I was inconsolable.

The nurse was by my side, trying to comfort me.  "Calm down and tell me what is wrong."

I looked at her blankly........................"Look at my leg.  Look at what my doctor wrote on my leg",  I cried.

She looked at my left leg.  "right leg/very Fat  " she said matter of factly.

"No, my right leg."

She looked at the writing on my right leg and then looked at me.  "REDRUM."  she said.  "It says REDRUM."

"No," I gasped "It says MURDER.  It says MURDER if you look at it in the mirror..............just like it did  in that Stephen King novel and  those people were  murdered.  It was a warning.  Oh Lord,  my doctor wants to   murder me .  What did I ever do to him? "   I thought a minute.   "Oh no!  I asked at Check-In about my surgery after waiting two hours and now he is going to murder me.  Get me out of here!!"  I began to yank at the blood pressure cuff .  It was one of those gigantic cuffs they use for fat people and it was wound around my arm two and a half times, but I kept pulling at it until it fell free.  As I reached for my IV she grabbed my arm.

"Stop it.  Stop it.  Your doctor is not trying to murder you."

 I let go of my grip.  "How do you know that?"  I asked.

 "I know that because.....................remember when I asked the doc to step out and we talked just outside the curtain?"

"Yes."  I grudgingly admitted.

"Well,"  the nurse said, "his wife had called and I was giving him her message."

"His wife wants me dead?"  I asked very confused.

"No," she said, " no one wants you dead.   The docs wife asked me to tell him to pick up a bottle of REDRUM before he comes home tonight."

"What is REDRUM?"  I ask, wondering if she was part of the murder conspiracy.

 "Redrum is a Caribbean rum infused with tropical fruit flavors.  I had some when I went to Jamaica last year .  It's really yummy!  Now lie back and let me put your blood pressure cuff  on and....................."

"Where is my doctor?  I want to see him."  I demanded. "How dare he use my leg for his honey-do list!"

"Listen honey," the nurse said, "You were lucky he had only one thing on his list.  Last week he wrote a list of groceries on some gal's breast-----------it was right next to the shoulder he was repairing.   If Doc doesn't see it right before he leaves the OR he will forget to pick it up ..................and evidently that is not a good thing to do."

"I don't care about his wife and what she'll do to him.  You get my doctor in here this minute or I..............."

Suddenly three nurses dressed in scrubs, masks, and caps came crashing through the curtains.  One of them hung a small bag of IV medicine.

I watched it drip into my vein.  "I'm not going until I see my doctor."

Another nurse was unlocking the bed brakes and a third snapped a surgical cap over my hair.  She tucked my hair into the cap and whispered to me. "The doctor is in the OR and you can talk to him when we get you there." 

They began to wheel my bed out of the little room and whisked me  down the hall through door after door, all the while I was screaming,  "I want to see my doctor!  I want to see my doctor!  I want...............to............seeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."        

That's all I could remember for a long time....................................

to be continued............................