Ok. There is only one “Whitest Guy” (Ben Franklin certified) and so I have unwittingly Doxxed myself as John Oliver.
You should now re-read all my posts ever in a British accent. They’ll sound much more authoritative and classy.
That’s what Game of Thrones money gets you.
As the whitest guy in the room and having spent a piece of time in the body and fender shop let me tell you my experience. You never sleep. Ever. While you stare out the window at the sun rise over the dank industrial city your symptoms deserve (why do they put Hospitals on hills?) or the tv feed of magnificent landscapes, artistically framed with soothing music, both designed to distract you from your imminent mortality.
Yes, they really do use “Code Blue”.
I had the benefit of having a Nurse at the station specifically curse me out by handle (do you really think I’m John Oliver? Really?) “ek hornbeck” at random. Some people I interact with in meatspace know I write but I don’t make a big deal about it and I was sick, self promotion was a secondary consideration. Well, it was an instructive insight into dK politics at the time (which I no longer care about other than- Told You So!) and kind of flattering.
I was that big a deal.
I’d pass it off as medication hallucination except it happened again at the next Shift Change. You never sleep, ever.
Finally my real Doctors (I’m picky) saw me and decided palliative care and monitoring was all I required and I was released into the general population where my diet varied not a bit off “clears” despite numerous inqueries and promises for 4 days, and before I was released I was expected to defecate in a bowl to prove I was healthy enough.
Nurses generally like me (White Guy) because I’m funny and don’t complain much. They decided to sign off and now I’m told all you have to do is prove you can eat solid food without barfing.
But the funniest part is that I languished in post-op for hours, waiting for my previous care team to sign off on my transfer. As darkness fell they trooped in, Lab Coated Penguins in a long line, who asked me all the same questions that had already been answered a dozen times before.
That’s a test by the way, it shows you’re aware of your surroundings and can give coherent responses that confirm your previous statements. You never appreciate that Whiteboard with the day and the date on it quite as much as you do after a medically induced coma.
They poked and prodded because I am a miracle of medicine and everyone is surprised I’m still pissing on them and marched out, astonished I suppose that I survived their care.
Thanks for emptying my barf bowl. Once.
I mean it sincerely. Because of my publicly funded health care I am alive today and I feel my medical treatment has been nothing else but upstanding despite several attempts by my Doctors to kill me. So Medicare for All! It doesn’t suck, especially if you have an advocate and learn the names of your Doctors and pay attention. Like everything else the libertarian instinct is to acquire or hire the expertise I’ve been afforded by sentiment but I don’t think like that.
I could have died yet I’m here to inflict you with more punishment.
How cool is that!