Letter to the Editor / Hospitals and Pride

By Joanne Celi

You lose all sense of pride when you stay in a hospital. Of course I only speak for myself. I’ve always been a modest person. I cover myself with a towel when changing in the gym. I make sure the window shade is down when I get out of the shower. I even dim the lights when I’m putting on my nightie in front of the dogs.

Now, just guessing, this may have a lot to do with body image. But that’s a topic for another discussion.

When I first get to the hospital, there remains a modicum of decency. I either get a coverup that is the size of a dinner napkin (before they see me) or a California King Sheet. I do my best to gather it together and attach it so it doesn’t fall off. Now you medical people may know why, but I often wonder why the strings come together at the very end of the material. This means, even if you can maneuver to tie it, there’s a sizeable viewing hole.

After I tell about 47 people my name, date of birth and reason for being there, I get a little numb. Then come the needles (my worst fear) and all the attachments. And sox that squeeze each leg every few seconds. And buzzers. Lots of buzzers.

You must pee before you move on but you can’t go without their help. At this point, I couldn’t care less who sees my ass. Go right ahead. If you can take it, so can I.

I feel enormously sorry for all the hard-working, compassionate, stoic medical staff – the sights they must see!!

[livemarket market_name="KONK Life LiveMarket" limit=3 category=“” show_signup=0 show_more=0]