ZONE YA-VOLUME 652

Harrison’s Essentials Rear Ended by Formalities. — by Harrison Vale

My chauffeur would seem the obvious solution, except he is currently refusing all post-sedation assignments. The clause appeared in his contract after my last dental procedure, when I spent the ride home attempting to purchase a toll bridge and appoint him its director of transportation. My cat is discreet, punctual and incapable of gossip.

I have always believed modern medicine works best when the patient ar- rives promptly, answers only the questions that matter and

He maintains that colonoscopy anesthesia may produce similar behavior, and he is unwilling to spend another afternoon explaining to me that public infrastructure is not for sale. My closest friends are perfectly pleasant over dinner, but asking one of them to accompany me to a colonoscopy would alter the relationship be- yond repair. There are boundaries between gen- tlemen, and the digestive tract is several miles beyond them. Family was equally impossible. I refuse to provide relatives with a story they could repeat at Thanksgiving for the next twenty years.

leaves before anyone attempts to discuss cholester- ol. This arrangement has served me perfectly well for years. Unfortunately, it does not apply to colo- noscopies, which apparently require a supporting cast, a transportation plan and the temporary sur- render of one’s dignity. My physician recommended the procedure with the casual confidence of a man who would not be drinking the preparation. I accept- ed the medical necessity without protest. I am nearly sixty, and while I consider this a clerical error, certain parts of the body have begun requesting official inspections. What I did not anticipate was that the hos- pital would become intensely interested in my social life. A woman from scheduling called to ar- range the appointment and informed me that I could not drive myself home. This seemed reasonable, since I would be se- dated and presumably in no condition to select an appropriate route, much less op- erate a Bentley. I told her I would take an Uber. “You cannot take an Uber,” she replied. “en I’ll take a car service.” “at is also not permitted.” I asked if the hospital had developed a personal grievance against professional drivers. She explained that I must arrive with a responsible adult who would remain on the premises, listen to the discharge in- structions and escort me home. I found the phrase “responsible adult” needlessly judgmental. I am surrounded by adults, although very few of them have displayed enough responsibility to qualify for medi- cal transportation.

This left acquaintances. I pictured calling someone I had met briefly at a gala, perhaps the fellow who com- plimented my dinner jacket while we waited for the auctioneer to stop shout- ing. What does one say? “Good afternoon. We met beside the champagne tower at the Preservation Foundation benefit. You admired my lapels. Would you care to spend Tues- day morning in a gastroenterology waiting room and assume legal custody of me afterward?” ere is no wording elegant enough to rescue that invitation. I explained this predicament to the scheduler, who responded with the sort of silence usually reserved for peo- ple negotiating with a parking meter. I then proposed bringing my cat. He is punctual, discreet and considerably more responsible than half the peo- ple seated at any Palm Beach charity dinner. He would not interrupt the discharge instructions, ask intrusive questions or post a photograph of my hospital bracelet. His inability to drive was admittedly inconvenient, but no more so than the hospital’s refusal to let a professional do it.

8A VOL. 652 YA

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