Bloody doctors. They would have to be the most irresponsible lot of know it alls who tell you everything but nothing of any kind of importance on the entire planet. Here’s an example:
Actual Doctor: Congratulations you are definitely pregnant. Eat sensibly, don’t drink or smoke or go horseriding. You’re next appointment is in 4 weeks.
Helpful Doctor: Congratulations you’re pregnant. Here’s the bank manager we find to be most helpful in organising extra loans for all the Frozen branded sleepwear and schoool fees you’ll have to pay for. Here’s a referral to a pyschologist for the panic attacks you’re going to have in 10 months time when you’re required to do a seemingly menial task like go down to the shops for bread and milk. And here is our complimentary haemorrhoid cushion and icepacks. You’ll need that in around 8 months.
Like magicians using misdirection, doctors will get you to focus on the actual procedure, not the ridiculously long time it takes to recover from their invasion of your ailing body. Something about the Hippocratic Oath and keeping people alive bullshit.
A more recent example for me would go something like this…
Actual Doctor: The removal of your gall bladder will take 90 minutes, you’ll be in hospital overnight and back to doing aerobic exercise in three to four weeks. You will need some help with the children in the first week or two. See you in theatre.
Helpful Doctor: Recovery is a complete Shit Show. Here are a few pointers…
1. You will be in a fair bit of pain after the surgery but we’ve got heaps of painkillers to help with that. You’ll just need to ask for them when you’re in pain after which you’ll be treated like a meth addict as the intimidating 100kg++ male nurse asks you for your name and date of birth and then stands over you with two other nurses looking on while you meekly swallow that drug down. Every time. (Stage cough over “Weak as piss”)
2. Every patient overnighting in hospital is a consummate whinger, so be prepared to only get about two hours sleep. Everyone on the ward will be ringing their extra loud bells for the night nurse to help them untwist their sheets or get them a drink of water or a back rub or whatever. (Eye roll).
3. You won’t be able to wangle your way into another night in hospital. I don’t really care about clingy kids and useless husbands; you should have thought of that when you were eating that pork belly burger with chilli aioli and duckfat fries.
4. The car ride home will be like sitting on top of a bucking bull hours after giving birth. Brace yourself.
5. We’re going to cut into your stomach and abdominals. I know I know, who knew abdominals were used for something and not just a final kick in the guts from your boot camp instructor at the end of an exruciating hour of fitness? So you won’t be able to get out of a seat or bed without help or walk around the house without looking like a dormant zombie.
6. And you know those awesome painkillers you were tossing down like M&Ms? They’re going to give you really bad constipation, so best have 4-5 litres of prune juice on hand when you get home. And you should probably dig out that haemorrhoid cushion we gave you a few years back.
Yep, doctors never give you the full story. Why would they? Noone would ever have sex or eat porkbelly burgers again.