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Writer's pictureJoy Manson

A Brush With Bacteria

I know I said I wasn’t going to blog over the summer. Famous last words. I was wrong. I lasted 16 days, although I did leave myself an “out” when I said something would probably come along to compel me to blog. This felt noteworthy.


I just returned from an appointment at the hospital to have that cutaneous horn removed that I blogged about a while ago. Probably the easiest one I’ve ever had. No lineups, no waiting and, as it turned out, no procedure either. For once I felt protected from the bacteria potluck of a normal hospital visit, as I wore a mask and so did everyone else. We also steered clear of each other. I only had to touch two elevator buttons myself. The doctor and I were both early. I arrived at 10:10 AM and was out of there by 10:30 for something that was supposed to happen at 10:40. Naturally I practised good hand hygiene when I got back. I washed my hands thoroughly with soap and hot water. Twice.


My visit is significant for what doesn’t happen. I know immediately where I’m going because the screener at the front door tells me. I don’t park myself in Admitting for 10 minutes or so, next to about 50 other people, while I wait for my number to appear on the magic screen – Bingo! – to register with a clerk. Instead, I go directly to 4 West, where I wait alone in a waiting room for about one minute. The woman shows me to a “procedure room.” The doctor and I chat for five minutes and he decides to call me in a couple of months, rather than remove something from my cheek we both struggle to find.


The doctor wears scrubs, gloves and a mask for our consult. I wonder why he’s not in isolation gear, but I suppose it’s not necessary at this point because we’ve both been screened.


Something else missing from this visit: my own stress and anxiety. Three or four years ago this would have freaked me out royally. I would have worried about exposing myself to who knows what, and returned stressed out and exhausted. This time, I didn’t even think about it. It felt like something I had to do and my head was in the right place going into it. I would just roll with whatever happened. And I did. And nothing happened.


With the advantage of hindsight, I realize now I could have refused the appointment entirely. And maybe I should have. But I figured right now, with Covid cases being so low, this was probably the safest, cleanest time ever to visit the hospital.


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