Mamakat's World-Famous Prompt: Share an embarrassing moment (these are always fun to read). This one was chosen by my husband.
I hadn't intended on giving birth that day. It had been my preference to wait at least two weeks longer. Unfortunately, my body had other plans, and my husband and I found ourselves driving straight from the perinatologist to the hospital on the other side of the Earth, my doctor calling every five minutes to ask where we were. As soon as we arrived, Larry went to park the car and I was whisked straight up to Labor and Delivery. I was in a hospital gown before I had even finished spelling my last name.
I found myself surrounded by a bevy of women, all in scrubs, their hair stuffed underneath those papery operating room caps. They pleasantly fussed over me, asking me matter-of-fact questions, sliding on a blood pressure cuff, placing the IV, hooking me up to the wires, and doing all that nurse-type stuff that people need at these times. I was the only patient at the time, my head facing the door, my lower half sort of exposed to anyone who passed by. The nurses closed the door to offer me a little privacy.
The anesthesiologist showed up. We discussed his work experience(it's a 'thing' with me), then my health issues(it was a 'thing' with him), and he decided that it would be best for me to have general anesthesia. I was on board with this decision; I was completely wigged out by the idea of being awake while someone was cutting into my body, and I was equally wigged out at the idea of a needle in my spinal column. General anesthesia meant that I could postpone the over-the-top panic attack I had planned for another time, like after I woke up as a parent. The anesthesiologist said that he would see me later, and the nice, matter-of-fact nurses handed me a cup to drink.
I drank what was in the cup. I did not ask what was in the cup before I drank it, because I was not in my right mind. I was very close to losing what little mind I had left, because suddenly it was all very real: I was going to be somebody's mother.
All of a sudden, I realized what had been in that little cup. It was the drink that cleans out your digestive system prior to surgery. I had to go. I announced this, and moved to get up to find the nearest bathroom, but the hovering nurses revealed their real purpose, which was to keep me right where I was. One of them explained that I could use a bed pan.
Bed pan? In front of all these people? I would die of embarrassment! Yes, it is a completely natural bodily function, everyone does it, but not in a bedpan in a room full of people! I didn't even do that in front of my husband, and we were supposed to be sharing everything!
Oh hell no, I started to say, and then I stopped myself. I really, really had to go. I knew with dead certainty that by the time I struggled off the gurney and pulled my IV stand into the bathroom, it would be all over, and that would be even more mortifying. I truly had no choice, I realized. The nurses lifted me and I put my reluctant backside in place just in the nick of time.
I was embarrassed, but there were only women in the room with me. I could get through this, I told myself. As discomfiting as this was, I could close my eyes and pretend that I was in my favorite stall in the ladies room instead of parked on a bedpan.
That is when the door to the pre-op swung open. In walked my doctor, with the anesthesiologist, and my husband...and my dad. They were in deep conversation, and were not looking at me and my exposed parts yet. At that moment, I wanted to sink down through all of the floors of the hospital and bury myself underneath it. My dad? I blushed fourteen different shades of red. Holy crap! I thought. I am NOT doing this with my DAD in the freakin' room!
"I need a LITTLE PRIVACY HERE!" I hollered to the entire hospital. I was horrified to be using a bedpan in front of an audience, and I was on the verge of hysteria. My doctor didn't even blink. He turned completely around and marched right back out into the hallway, herding the rest of the menfolk ahead of him.