[img]958|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img]Dateline Boston — When we got cable TV in our new apartment, I paid extra to get OWN—the Oprah Winfrey Network. I was so excited to have Oprah-style TV 24 hours a day! What would it be like? Oprah show reruns over 25 years? Dr. Oz and Suze Orman specials? Fabulous talk shows? I soon forgot my excitement about OWN as the Oprah show was still on and I was satisfied with the other cable channels we had.
One day I finally remembered that we had OWN, and I turned it on. The first show I ever watched on the Oprah Winfrey Network was called “Mystery Diagnosis.” This is a show that chronicles two stories of people who have really strange symptoms that can’t be figured out. They do one story at a time, starting with the symptoms, how the patient went from doctor to doctor, not getting a diagnosis, or hearing that they just had a cold, or no answer at all. The symptoms may go away, or get worse, until finally they get so bad that something drastic happens. Tests are run, and they come up with the proper diagnosis. They go through the steps to see how a diagnosis wasn’t made in the first place. They finish with a follow-up visit where the patient is always either back to normal or managing their symptoms.
There was a case I saw recently where a newborn kept throwing up. Doctors and nurses said it was normal spit up; it was fine. It kept happening. Mom took baby to the doctor again, was always sent home. The child got older, developed constipation. Doctors gave suppositories. Kid got meds for reflux, symptoms went away for a year. Vomiting started up again, doctor said it was a virus, family was sent home. Finally it got so bad that the kid was walking around with a bucket! Finally the mom insisted on x-rays. When the results came back…wait for it…it turned out that the boy’s stomach and part of his large intestine were in his chest! When he was born, he had some kind of hernia that created a hole and his organs got sucked up where they weren’t supposed to be. They operated, put everything back to where it should have been in the first place, and covered up the hole with…GoreTex! I’m not kidding. At the end, the kid was fine. It was a happy ending. Next case.
A quick scan of the guide on my TV revealed the following show titles: “The O’Neals,” the story of the volatile relationship between Tatum O’Neal and her father, Ryan; “Finding Sarah,” where the Dutchess of York tries to find herself after much turmoil as a princess; “Prison Wives,” which I didn’t even want to know anything about; “Say Yes to the Dress,” a show I am obsessed with, that follows soon-to-be brides as they shop for very expensive gowns at New York City’s famous Kleinfeld’s; and “I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant,” a show whose title is so fascinating I’ve watched several episodes.
That show, whose title is pretty self-explanatory, features mostly young women who are pregnant but often don’t know it until they are in labor. They don’t gain weight, there’s no morning sickness, and they mistake spotting for their periods. They have dramatic re-enactments of the stories. There was one case where a young woman went into the hospital thinking she had gallstones. Her boyfriend went with her. At one point, he leaned down and somehow got a glimpse of her nether regions. He gasped, “Oh, my God, I see a head!” Guess she didn’t have gallstones after all. My favorite episode was one in which the doctor felt around a teenager’s abdomen to determine the cause of her discomfort. He said, “Well, it’s either a baby, or a tumor.” Wow.
No, OWN isn’t what I thought it would be, but I’m getting over that pretty fast. One minute I’m trying on haute couture gowns, the next, I’m feeling weird, and it might be because I’m in my third trimester. Get me a designer, doctor and wet towels, STAT!
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
