You have to be old enough to know who Monty Hall and Carol Merrill are to get this.
Nurse: “We’re having problems with Michael’s access again.”
Doctor: “Let’s get him to the hospital for another cathether.”
Nurse: “I don’t think he’ll go for that unless we do what we can to get the access working.”
Doctor: “Okay, you’re right. Run him early Monday morning.”
Nurse: “We couldn’t run him today, why stick him again on Monday if it’s not going to work and then send him to the hospital full of holes.”
Doctor: “Okay, let’s schedule him for another fistulagram on Monday.”
Nurse (to hospital radiology department): “I need to schedule a fistulagram and possible angioplasty for Monday.”
Hospital radiology department: “Not a chance. We’re booked solid.”
Nurse: “Fit him in. This guy hasn’t had dialysis for a week.”
Hospital radiology department: “Okay, we’ll do it during lunch hour, but I’ll have to take the blame for this.”
Of course I didn’t hear any of these conversations, they were all relayed to me later by one of the best dialysis nurses in the business. When she got to the third part of the exchange with my doctor (whom I like and respect immensely, by the way) my only response was: What’s behind door number three, Monty? Let’s make a deal. I’ll take what’s behind door number three, Monty. In my head I’m hearing Jimmy Buffett:
“I don’t want what Jay’s got on his table
Or the box Carol Merril points to on the floor
No I’ll hold out just as long as I am able
Until I can unlock that lucky door
Well she’s no big deal to most folks
She’s everything to me
And my whole world lies waiting behind door number three”
By Monday I will have gotten dialysis once in the last 14 days. That’s not good, and I feel like crap, so don’t be looking for any tremendous insights around here anytime soon. I’m running on fumes.
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