Dan's Papers - August 3, 2007 - Peconic Bay Medical Center

They've got state-of-the-art equipment at Peconic Bay Medical Center in Riverhead. That's what I was told and it was quite reassuring since I was scheduled for a "procedure" there.

I'm not often in a hospital. I had my tonsils removed in 1939 and occasionally I go to visit a sick friend or get a flu shot. Either at PBMC or Eastern Long Island Hospital in Greenport. Both have good cafeteria coffee. ELIH has a view of Peconic Bay but PBMC has the Peconic name. So take your pick.

I knew I was given good information about the latest equipment when I drove up to PBMC. Why, much of the equipment was outside! That's right. There were cranes and earthmovers and bulldozers. All lifting, digging, pushing. PBMC is in the middle of big-time expansion and with stuff like this outside I could only imagine what I'd discover in the O.R.

And the guys using the outside equipment looked capable to me. Big, lots of muscle, agile. I hoped the doctors wielding state-of-the-art scalpels inside would be just as competent.

In I went. Brenda Richards of Riverhead, all decked out in a blue uniform, escorted me to a small pre-surgery room on the hospital's third floor. Then she got busy with PBMC state-of-the-art. She wrapped some of it around my left arm, clipped a bit of it to my left index finger, and stuck more of it under my tongue. All at the same time! Not finished, Brenda glued little patches of paper or cloth all over the rest of my body. Those patches were attached to wires that ran to a computer.

You know me and computers. Not skilled at all, but I can delete. Could Brenda's computer, given the wrong input, delete what was wired to it? That would be me!

There I was. Wrapped, clipped, stuck and patched. All with PBMC state-of-the-art. Now Brenda came at me with a needle. She wanted blood. Those needles are never state-of-the-art. They've looked the same since Hippocrates. Menacing.

Brenda finally let me go. Told me to wait for the nurse practitioner. So I sat there thinking about the guys outside. Had they jumped off their state-of-the-art equipment for a coffee break? I considered sneaking out to join them but I had a PBMC bracelet on my left wrist and a cotton-ball bandage on my right arm - where Brenda drained my blood. Surely I'd be apprehended as a PBMC escapee and written up in the newspapers. That might be OK on the South Fork but on the conservative North Fork it would be downright disgraceful.

Then along came Jennifer O'Neill, nurse practitioner. From Southampton, of all places. Please, Jennifer, I want you to know anything I've ever written about the South Fork was just in fun. I'm always praising your beaches, you know that. Jennifer must have sensed my North Fork nerves because when she poked and probed with her PBMC state-of-the-art, I didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable.

Next, from Jennifer on the third floor to X-ray on the first. All this PBMC high tech was somewhat stressful, so I opted for the down staircase rather than the elevator. Elevators have all those buttons and lights while a staircase needs only my legs. I'd be in charge.

But not for long. In X-ray I met Scott Zolak, a perfectly nice guy with the perfectly frightening title of radiologic technologist. Now when a radiologic technologist says stand still, put your arms by your sides and don't breathe, you do it. Turns out though, that Scott was originally from Little Silver, New Jersey. My special aunt used to live there and I visited often so Scott and I talked happily. Not high tech.

On my way out of PBMC I met Tim Kelly. He's director of public relations at the hospital and I've known him for years. When you hear him play the bagpipes and see him in a kilt, you know he's state-of-the-art fun.

And finally, the player piano. Something new in the PBMC lobby. Tucked away in a corner and playing softly. Could it be? The silly song was comfortably old. "Yes, We Have No Bananas." Almost set me singing, bandaged arm and all. I'll be back for the "procedure" next week because, PBMC, you may have no bananas, but, by gosh, you've got everything else.