So I showed up for a scheduled medical test at the hospital the other day. It was one of those particularly distasteful tests that involve a full day’s prep at home choking down a range of hideous chemical cocktails, consumption of which is designed to induce explosive liquid diarrhea that requires staying very, very close to a toilet all day long. The procedure itself on the following morning was right up there on the Creepy Disgusting Embarrassing Cringe Scale of medical experiences.
Hospital procedures like this feel invasive, uncomfortable, distressing, and revoltingly undignified for most patients. All the more reason that medical staff who administer such procedures need to start treating us like we’re more than just the nameless, faceless 10 o’clock patient in Bed 8, what I’ve previously described here as “the obstacle between them and their next coffee break, just a piece of meat on a slab – but worse, an invisible piece of meat.”
Call me crazy, but I might even go so far as to insist that patients deserve to be treated with common courtesy, and let’s start with the simple basics of saying something like:
“Hello. My name is _____ and I’ll be doing your ______ today.” (more…)
One of our big hospitals is around the corner from my local grocery store. This location is handy for hospital staff, who can pop in for groceries on their way home from a long shift. And it also makes it über-creepy for those of us who watch them leaning over the produce bins while still wearing the same bacteria-laden scrubs, white coats or uniforms they’ve been wearing at work.
My cat 
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