poured out before bed
“Well, I thought it was my hip…” The little old man scratches his head with the curved handle of his cane.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was his knee – a steroid injection,” says the orthopedics PA on the phone line. “I did put it all in the order, you know.”
I look at the printed order by the light of the computer.
“The order we received was written for a right hip and actually for an aspiration. However, your note mentions both hip and knee steroid injections.”
An annoyed phone-sigh blasts my ear and furious typing and clicking follow.
“OK … let’s just go with the right hip injection – it’s the worst joint if I remember correctly. I’ve just put in a new order. Bye now.”
The electric bang transmitted when he slams the receiver down is deafening.
The new order appears within moments and the tech quickly generates a new consent form.
“Ah, I thought it was my hip,” Mr. Jones smiles widely.
We apologize profusely for the mix-up and talk through the procedure, explain the risks and benefits, answer his questions. Mr. Jones takes the clipboard in his great arthritic hand and slowly pens his first name. He has just begun the first loop on the ‘J’ when he suddenly stops, resting the pen to his close-shaved chin.
“You know, I am quite sure it was my left hip to be injected…”