Last week I went in for a hernia operation and the guy next to me in pre-op was having difficulty getting his IV needle in place. He was screaming like a girl and saying things like "oh god, oh god, this has never happened before!" I just figured he was a wuss. Then the nurse asked if he had anyone driving him home after his surgery. He replied "yes, my spouse". Then she asks what this persons name is, and he says "Wilfred". His nurse, my nurse, and I all looked at each other, rolled eyes, and then realized what we were dealing with.
She asks what drugs he is currently taking and he says "Celexa". She then asks if he is seeing any behavioural health professionals, and he says " no, but I have a shrink and a psychiatrist". We all looked at each other and cringed.
Next, his nurse says "it says on your chart that you drink a pint of alcohol a day...". He laughs and makes a big deal out of it, explaining that that was what he used to drink many moons ago and he could not believe that was what his medical record said.
The next question she asks is "when was the last time you drank and how much?" He replies "just under a quart 2 days ago"- that was when we really knew just how messed up this dude was.
I remember waking up in post-op and he is next to me, and his doctor is telling him that while he was working on his gallbladder, he noticed that his liver was in the early stages of cirrhosis, and he should quit drinking. Then he started crying and passed out again, and started snoring loudly.
Pathetic and sad at the same time.
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