This is My Rant Against Hospital Gowns

Picasso wasn’t crazy – He just saw people after Chernoble.
Seriously, I feel like I could grow an eye out of my chin right now. Over the past few days, weeks, maybe years I have been in several medical facilities. I have drunk elements from the periodic table, given an IV of something that starts with a G that is not “too radioactive”, stared at warning signs and “asu ni edam” stickers for four hours, and had a water bottle’s worth of blood drawn at one time. There is more but you don’t want to hear it. In all this I have one big issue. Why is it that everytime I have an EMG, EEG, CAT, CT, MRI, Sleep study, or really anything else they force me to don a one size fits all hospital gown? Couldn’t they at least have sizes?  I feel caught between being a bumbling doormouse in oversized sandals and a waif set to blow away in the slightest wisp of wind….
And don’t get me started on the arm holes. I can fit the length of my humerus in the arm hole, shoulder to elbow, easily.

Well, I am being directed to stride about like own the place…


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