Oh the indignity...

I had already experienced this indignity less than a year previous, so I was prepared for the odd request. Before I could leave I had to do an act that a lady never partakes in. I had to...shall we say...pass wind. I have my doubts that this is a legitimate medical rule, I think that it's just a fun little rite of passage that doctors and nurses subject patients to, like freshman hazing. Once I had solemnly sworn that this act had occurred, I was wheeled down to pick up my discharge papers and medications. The indignity wasn't over yet. An acne-prone young man came to wheel me around the behemoth campus of the hospital to pick up my various prescriptions and papers. I don't know why they couldn't have just been brought to me, but it was nice to have a change of scenery after 10 days. I was wheeled to the pharmacy where I was to pick up a nice collection of antibiotics and painkillers (or as some call it the "Courtney Love Special"). When I got to the pharmacy, after spelling and then respelling my last name (Nope, F as in Frank. No, no T, just F. No, really) they gave me one bottle, but had questions about a missing prescription. Apparently I needed a stool softener and one was not prescribed. The conversation was as follows, "There's nothing here for a stool softener, but you're going to need one." Me: "Ok." Pharmacy tech, "Did they talk to you about a stool softener?" Me: "No." Pharmacy tech, "Well, you're going to need a stool softener. Definitely. No one said anything about a stool softener?" Me: (turning red and shrinking into the wheelchair) "Um, no." Pharmacy tech: "Well, we'd better get you a stool softener. I'll call upstairs and make sure, but we'll get you a big bottle. Of stool softener. You'll have to wait over there until I can get the bottle. Of stool softener." There were people in line behind me and the nice teenager hovering near the wheelchair, so I was pretty much mortified by this point. I don't really enjoy people wondering about the consistency of my bodily waste. I am convinced that the pharmacy tech got a dollar every time she said stool softener with extra points for volume and clarity. I finally was awarded my economy size bottle of STOOL SOFTENER and was on my way. Of course, I figured I'd now have to change my name and get a wig in case I ever met any of those people again. You'd think after experiencing the various indignities of childbirth, I'd be over these prudish and Puritanical sensibilities. Not so much.