White Coat Syndrome
So, for many years I have had a big fear of doctors. I’m not sure why. Could have been the knee surgery when I was four and had a big fat tumor removed, followed by a 10-day hospital stay with shots every few hours.
Maybe it was the drunk-driving high-school seniors who hit me while they were celebrating their graduation. They were driving the wrong way down a one-way road and hit me head on, which sent me to the hospital with a broken knee and resulted in some crazy aftercare visits that gave me no confidence in doctors or ambulance-chasing lawyers.
Maybe it was the time I fell off a cliff while on a fishing trip in Soquel. My friend and I went way up Soquel creek by car (about 10 miles). We hiked down a very steep mountain side to get to where we were positive the “big ones” would be lurking. As dusk settled in, we realized we needed to head home. No fish were caught on our expedition. We ended up climbing up the side of a ravine using roots of trees to scale the steep terrain. My friend was at the top looking down at me when the big root he had used to hoist himself up broke, just as I was about to reach the top. I fell backwards and hit a 20-foot-high granite boulder before dropping another 20 feet into the creek. I lay in the cold water, motionless with broken bones, including a broken pelvis and broken shoulder, waiting for my friend who rushed to the car and drove off to get help. He came back, but had not found help. He proceeded to drag me up the side of a mountain as I screamed in pain. It was almost dark, and I needed to get to a hospital quick.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, I was forced to wait many hours, despite my broken bones, being told I needed to fill out paperwork. When my X-rays came back, the doctors went into panic mode, realizing they’d been neglecting a seriously injured patient, left in excruciating pain for hours with no attention.
Doctors have done plenty of great things for me and my family, so I am not condemning the profession, just relating some of my negative experiences.
That said, this next one is as scary as it gets. I was dating this lovely lady named Kelli who has now been my wife for 27 years. As things were starting to get a bit serious, she said that she was not interested in dating me unless I was willing to have kids. Well, there was a little problem there. I had been married previously and had raised three kids, and my first wife had insisted upon me getting a vasectomy.
12 years later I am presented with an ultimatum of starting over with kids to have my girlfriend, now wife, continue seeing me. The answer was clear, get a vasectomy reversal. I ended up contacting the good OLD doctor who had done the original surgery and asked if he could do the reversal.
Now the fun begins. This doctor was old the first time around. Now he was ancient. When I entered the operating room for the one-hour outpatient surgery, I noticed he was shaking (like maybe he had Parkinson’s or something!) and this guy was about to perform microsurgery on my private parts. I had a very uneasy feeling.
I was drugged with some Valium but still awake. I noticed him shaking as I looked at his reflection in the chrome light fixture above my head. All of a sudden he screamed, “SHIT,” and called for backup. I thought he had cut “IT” off. I popped up in a panic and he told me to “lie down and shut up.” Three hours later he had corrected his mistake and finished procedure. He then said to the other doctor that I was his last patient and retired right then.
After all that, it was successful, but we were still unable to have kids, so we chose to adopt two children at birth, and they are two of the most amazing kids on the planet.
So, to my doctor who told me why my blood pressure races to 203 over 118 in his presence and is half that at home, I thank you. At least I now know it’s a common condition called “White Coat Syndrome.”