First came the email from my doctor’s office. Then came a phone call, instructing me: “Wait in the parking lot with the security guard until the nurse calls you.”
The next day came a second request: “Enter through the side door, off Sweetwater Boulevard.”
Then the third call, command: “You must come alone.”
Rather high maintenance for a little female problem, I thought.
When the nurse called the fourth and final time, she said, “Come up to the 3rd floor and walk straight back in to Room 5.”
She didn’t warn me about what came before the doctor’s hands.
I call it the Full Corona Treatment.
Outside the hospital stood a lone sentry. He eyeballed me head to toe then keyed the sliding glass door.
Inside, a six‐person team stood, sat, and stared. Waiting. For. Me.
Hard to see here (I became too intimidated [yes, me] to snap a closer photo), but each person wore full coverage, a head‐to‐toe white hospital suit.
Faces stayed impassive, shielded behind masks, glasses, AND plastic sheeting that extended past their shoulders. Hands raised skyward, both gloved to the elbow.
Before I could step forward, the tallest responder barked, “Temperature, ma’am!”
He poked my forehead with a steel‐spiked thermometer gizmo. No assent/dissent allowed.
The woman sitting to my right—like a queen behind her table throne—fired away: “Are you having any breathing problems? Are your lungs clear? Have you had any fever in the past two weeks? Have you traveled overseas since March 1st? Have you been around anyone with confirmed coronavirus?”
A second woman, standing near the plate glass window, shook her head “yes” to my every “no.” Questions completed, she stepped forward and banded my wrist with a yellow bracelet.
My body responded “no” to every query. Why did I merit a coward’s color? Don’t ask here!
Moments later, I turned the corner and saw massive orange barricades extending across the hospital’s main entrance.
My mind raced back to 9/11, ruminating, assembling, connecting.
Full racks of weighted barriers. Six‐person checker teams.
A nasty bug we cannot see.
Coronavirus as terrorist? War?
What else will I experience in my lifetime?
The doctor did what my body needed and I’m healing nicely.
What did I learn during my CoronaWorld Medical Adventure?
- Most people will rise up to your expectations if they understand your ‘why’, — and -
- “Essential business” applies as much to individuals every day as it does nowadays to grocery stores and gas stations.
Both involve a choice.
What better time than a pandemic lockdown to identify what’s essential in your life?
As for me, I’m focusing on my health first, and writing a close second.
How about you?