Our next play is Le Mariage forcé, a one act comédie-ballet featuring Sganarelle. It is delightful.
I have read your comments and will answer in the morning and then write my post. But first I would like to share an experience.
I underwent a nasty health procedure and met a very strange doctor. Today, I wrote a letter describing inappropriate behaviour on the part of a medical doctor and put it in the mail. Fortunately, we are entering a three-day weekend, which will allow me return to normal life and work on Molière.
I am recovering from an intrusive medical procedure, that made me feel worthless. The doctor, a woman, did not take into consideration confidential information my doctor had provided. This was a procedure that could trigger suicidal ideation, because of events that occurred when I was a child and defenseless.
This doctor did not introduce herself. She did not make sure I had been sedated. It may be that the sedation did not work, but I don’t think I was sedated. She did not provide the privacy I needed. She left one polyp inside me, which she wants to remove later: another colonoscopy. No! When I left, she failed to ask me whether I was well enough to return home. I wasn’t.
The message she conveyed was that I was worthless, that no doctor was to tell her to be careful and that if I required a discrete and painless intervention, she was going to settle that matter once and for all. I was a number and I should know.
My doctor had reported sexual abuse and humiliation I suffered as a child, which precluded a colonoscopy, were it not that a test had revealed bleeding. Polyps were removed and will be analyzed. But she left one behind, which means undergoing another colonoscopy. I did not want to undergo that procedure.
This is how it unfolded.
Before undergoing such a procedure, one is asked not to eat, except a clear broth or two, and not to drink, except clear liquids. One must then drink two litres of a special fluid: one litre the day before the procedure and one litre four hours before the procedure, one glass at a time, every ten minutes.
When I went to bed the night before the dreaded colonoscopy, I was bloated and felt nauseous. On the day of the procedure, I felt so nauseous that my stomach rejected the fluid. I was lying down when suddenly the liquid burst out of me, wetting the bed and my clothes. I then took a bath that unleashed several explosions of a liquid that became increasingly yellow. A volunteer was picking me up, but I wasn’t ready. I left late.
Once, I was at the hospital, I reported the accidents. I was told that any remaining fluid would be removed and that, if I was not ready, the procedure would be postponed. I put on a gown, lied on a bed and a needle was inserted in my wrist. In theory, it was a sedative that would put me to sleep, but the sedative did not take effect and I now suspect it was not a sedative. During the procedure, I asked the doctor to please relieve the pain, but she said I would stop breathing.
When the procedure was over, she did not ask if I felt well enough to return home. All she said is that she would perform a second colonoscopy later and remove the polyp she left inside my body. I cannot believe she willfully left a polyp inside me. Is she sadistic, and what if it is cancer?
The volunteer took me to the building where I live. I went up, opened the door to my apartment and fainted. I had not eaten for two days. I ate and then spent hours cleaning the mess.
I wrote her a letter and mailed it to her. I will send copies to various offices. This was abuse of the elderly—I was made to feel worthless, pain was inflicted on me, and I may have met a very sick woman.
Love to everyone 💕
Debussy plays Debussy | Clair de Lune (1913)
© Micheline Walker
28 June 2019