Or, How I Spent My Summer Vacation
A few weeks back, I disappeared from the blog. I was in the hospital with a foot infection. Look down at your right foot. Yeah, that one. It’s an important part of the story.
I only mention this, because I think it’s an interesting story. I always withhold biographical information, since some folks like to use it against others. Besides, the internet isn’t all about me. But this is a story I don’t mind telling.
On July 13th, I signed informed consent to have my right foot operated on. Not a big procedure at all. I also had a small injury to my left foot, but I had already seen my podiatrist about it the previous week.
On the day of the surgery, the doctor did his job on my right foot, just below the spot where he scribbled his initials in ink on my right foot hours before. They do that now, just to avoid mistakes.
When he was done, he looked over at my left foot — the one he did not have permission to work on, and apparently said to himself “Hmm. That foot needs my attention.” He cut into it, but didn’t do any major damage. He didn’t transfer the infection from one foot to another, though he didn’t scrub up again or put on new gloves.
I was under general anesthesia. Out cold.
I quizzed him about it later, and he said because my wife wasn’t in the hospital to give permission, he just went ahead. Raise your right hand if you think my wife carries her phone everywhere.
The surgeon did not seem to understand the significance of my concern.
I tried my best teacher voice to get him to understand that “Surgeon Operates on Wrong Foot” makes a great legal strategy and a terrific headline for the local TV and radio stations. He did not get it.
I’m curious about the thoughts of others on this. Do you have a similar story? How far should I take this?