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Location: South Boston, VA, United States

I am a full-time teacher of Literature and Art History at a private school in Virginia, and hold the MA in medieval literature from Longwood University. My research interests include various topics in Classical Studies, Medieval/Renaissance studies, Neomedievalism, Romanticism, the Gothic, Art History, especially Art as Propoganda, Portraiture, and Impressionism, Women's Studies and Genocide Studies.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Ovarian whosit-whatsits and Primtetime TV

 Okay, I admit it: I am a hospital drama junkie. ER, Scrubs; more recently, House, and especially Grey's Anatomy - I watch them regularly. (Well, okay, I don't really watch Scrubs all that often, especially if I can find one of the other shows on simultaneously.) Now, I hate hospitals and everything having to do with medecine, surgery, and needles above all, but somehow these shows have a major grasp on my psyche. (I say "somehow", but I know it's really all about the casting. I mean, let's be honest: who doesn't want to watch Noah Wyle, George Clooney, Patrick Dempsey, or Robert Sean Leonard for an hour? Who doesn't identify with poor Meredith Grey and her intern pals? We've all been at the bottom of the food chain in our respective jobs. It's sympathetic, man!) But I digress from my original purpose in writing this.

Having watched these shows on a semiweekly basis for about five years, I consider myself fairly well-versed in hospital drama. I have even made diagnoses on myself based on what I've seen - and, amazingly, I have frequently been right, which means kudos to those well-researched writers! So last week, when I woke up with terrible cramps and nausea, I racked my brain for the correct episode diagnostic. It wasn't the multiple-birth pregnancy one; never having been to Asia and not having any friends who go to exotic places either (more's the pity) I was pretty sure we could rule out the one about SARS; I hadn't been out in the street during any crazy bike rides so it couldn't be massive internal lacerations caused by being hit by a car attempting to avoid a bike ridden by a drunkard. Frankly, I was at a loss, and as the symptoms progressively worsened, I wished I had bought the complete ten-season DVD set of ER.

Eventually, the pain got so bad that I went to the emergency room. (Hey, it was a last-minute, desperate move!) They took all my vitals (Oh, how proud Dr. Bailey would have been of their efficiency! These weren't wet-behind-the-ears interns, no sir!) and then the doctor tried to palpate my abdomen (See? I lifted that right from the writers for ER. I told you they were great!) Unfortunately, I was so tender that I scooted up to the tippy-top of the gurney and squealed "don't touch me!" (neurotic guest star.) They hooked me up with an IV and Dilopid (sp?)...has anyone ever noticed how the anesthesiologist and blood guys are always the most cheerful? They're so thrilled about stabbing their fellow human beings with needles and handling drugs. I'm of the opinion that, like the mother who killed her husband's younger fiancee on Law and Order, they secretly indulge in their own products from time to time, but that's a different kind of drama. Back to hospital angst!

One thing that struck me as being vitally different between my beloved hospital programs and the real deal is the time lapse. Have you ever noticed how quick and snappy, efficient, even, those doctors in television emergency rooms are? They're in and out between commericial breaks. It's an inspiration for Americans everywhere, their efficiency. This is not the case in reality. My doctor, for example, let me sleep for two hours on the drug before he tried to check my tummy again. Then again, maybe he heard a tone in my voice that warned him that he had best let me be until I was good and woozy. I do not handle pain well.

At any rate, eventually the diagnosis came back: "Well, it could be either a kidney infection or a ruptured ovarian cyst," he said, consulting my chart. "But your blood counts are normal and your urine sample came up clean, so I'm leaning towards the cysts."

Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. What?! Ruptured ovarian whosit-whatsit? I so do not remember that episode on any of the programs I habitually imbibe! "I have what?"

"A ruptured ovarian cyst. See, every month at ovulation, the follicles on your ovaries swell due to hormones. Usually they just go down of their own accord, but occasionally they can get blocked, and then sometimes they burst. That accounts for the swelling and tenderness. The fluid from the cyst is pressing against your organs."

Let me get this straight. "So, what you're telling me is, I have a popped zit on my ovary?!"

He laughed. (The doctors on ER or Grey's Anatomy would never laugh at a patient in such obvious distress! Maybe House would, though.) "Well, more or less."

Ewwwww. Gross! Chalk up another reason why being a woman can suck royally. It's not bad enough my face has to break out once a month, but my ovaries? And how is it that I have lived for thirty plus odd years on this planet and nobody has ever in all of that time mentioned that this happens? Boy, did my parents get gypped out of their taxpaying dollars in my public school system's health classes!

"Is it...is it serious?" I asked timidly.

"Not usually, no. Just monitor it for a few days. We can't really do anything about it except wait for the fluid to go down. In the meantime, we'll get you set up with a prescription for Vicoden and you should think about taking it easy for a few days."

Okay...Vicoden. Now we're talking language I understand. I've never heard of ruptured ovarian cysts, but they hurt like being in labor. (Take my word for that, don't go out and get one to see for yourself.) Vicoden is a good idea right about now. That, and some reruns of ER and Grey's Anatomy.

I'm thinking of writing up my experience with ruptured ovarian cysts as a screenplay for these hospital dramas. None of them have ever featured that storyline before. I think they have a responsibility to keep the viewing public abreast of such horrific possibilities. They have clearly been derelict in their duties. What, they give us the symptoms for SARS and massive head trauma, but not for cysts? Sheesh. I figure if they stagger the shooting schedules approriately, we should see one ovarian cyst episode per network per week for about a month. Hey, I'm looking out for the welfare of the American people, here. It's my civic duty. Besides, I'm looking forward to testing out my newfound medical jargon!

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