Reader's Request: The Doctor's Wife

Readers's Request: The Doctor's Wife

Due to a gap in my memory, the request for you (dear readers) to submit a topic for me to blog on today, wasn't made until too late (just last night). But, as luck (is that what it is? pretty sure this isn't Divine interference) would have it- I have some good fodder for a blog post- thanks to a visit to the ER last night. [*my disclaimer- I didn't go to the ER to get a blog post topic, it's a correlation, not causal.]

I know there are other doctor's wives in the world. You may be one yourself (or maybe the doctor's husband, child, sibling, or parent) but maybe you're not- and I'm leaning more towards the latter, so let me tell you what it's like to be a patient at the hospital where your husband is employed- especially when he's out of town.

First, comes the question: "Hmm..Diener...are you related to--?" I fess up right away. I think if the cards were switched, my husband would play dumb. Who? Nope, never heard of her. But I don't play games like that, for better or worse.

Then, comes the puzzled stare. She's his wife? Kinda frumpy isn't she? I thought doctor's wives were supposed to be a little more put-together, not so-- what is she exactly? Granted, the only times I've been to the hospital as a patient, have been times when say, oh, something was really wrong and my top priority wasn't getting glammed up before heading to the Emergency Room. So yes, last night at 1 am, not my best look. Be glad I put my bra back on. There I said it.

Once the initial shock passes, they start to put the pieces together. I am the mother of those adorable children that he parades around from time-to-time. I am the one you're calling back to say, "he's in surgery. Is there any message?".

After we get through this stage, we move on to what I like to refer to as "exceptional care". Now, some history. I started my college career with a pre-med major (go ahead and laugh, my husband does- if he's feeling brave) and entertained the option of nursing for a few years-- so I have my fair share of medical knowledge. I worked at a hospice. My spouse is an MD. I know stuff. To be more specific-- I pretty much know when they're doing "extra" things that Jane No Medical Insurance Doe might not receive, should she be in the same predicament (this is not a political statement- just observation). I also know about the generic diagnoses *they* sometimes will throw around-- it makes the patient feel like they've identified something that's wrong (which we tend to want)- even if there's nothing really wrong with us.

Now, let's get to last night. I show up to the ER because frankly- I could not take a deep breath- to the point of feeling light-headed, my skin tingled like it does if I'm breathing too fast, my heart rate was higher than it normally is-- and to my thinking-- this did not seem good. I was afraid to go to sleep- kept picturing my 5 yr old finding me slumped on the couch and dialing 9-1-1 (okay, that's the writer part of my head-- the imagination- can't help that, it's hard-wired in me).

I show up. They ask that question...fast forward to "exceptional care". They give me an albuterol/atrovent breathing treatment (this is after the respiratory therapist says- I don't hear anything unusual). Granted- it did open things up and I started to breathe easier. I had an x-ray, it showed no pneumonia or anything sinister. At this point, it should be- face the reality, sweetheart (though you can't say that these days), you've got a bad chest cold. Go home. Drink fluids. Rest. But no. We get the diagnosis. Bronchitis. No big surprise to me. Just about every chest cold that lasts longer than a few days is Bronchitis. So- a little sad I've just wasted time & money to learn it's just a chest cold, but also relieved I can just go home, go to bed, and get better.

But, it isn't just the diagnosis. Because most of us want something that will make us feel better. So, I was given a script for an antibiotic (still not sure we can technically say this is a bacterial infection) and an inhaler (I wasn't keen on this at first, but after using it this morning-- I was delightfully surprised at being able to breathe deep again).

In the meantime, between the you're his wife? and the discharge, I was very well-attended. Maybe it was just a slow night in the ER, but I swear I had about every staff person on the floor peek in to chat and make sure I was okay, offering me a tv remote, second blanket, and wishes for me to "get better".

So, is it all bad being the doctor's wife? No. Not at all. I know they are dotting their i's and crossing their t's because you don't want to flub up on a doctor's wife. But it makes me sad in the sense that there is that different level of care. Just one more way that the have's have more.

Well, now you know about my special treatment. Do you get special treatment because of your profession or your spouse's profession (if no spouse- parent, sibling, etc)? Do you get extra stickers when you visit your wife's classroom? Do you get two lollipops when you go to your husband's bank? I fessed up. You should, too.

Thanks for joining me for Reader's Request, especially since you didn't actually request this. See you next time there's a 5th Friday in a month.