Go away Whoopie.
It was an all day affair for two appointments. Like a lot of things, a lot less fun as you go along. We started with the registration game-which we've played before and religion-wise we still classify ourselves as 'other' and would we like the chaplains to stop by while we're there? Sure. We'll take all the assistance we can get. Dammit.
We got sent upstairs this time. We found our way down a hall and it was a sort of a temporary setting for PAT which is pre-admission testing and a nice nurse showed up right away and took my blood pressure which hurt like a word that starts with M and my temperature, and that thing on my finger and then questions. No news flashes for this one. I think it was all verifying what was already in the computer and we talked at length about ice cream. Brown Cow/Rainbow Cone and how the glorious P brought me home some Raspberry Rhapsody or something like that from a place in Chicago last night.
She gave us the instructions regarding how much apple juice you can have on the morning of surgery and she said the anesthesiologist would be "right in".
Three hours later.
Okay not three but, it was a long time until he got there. This time it was me hopping around the room. Taking pictures willy-nilly just because it was taking so long. Finally, in came a man who re-asked almost the exact same questions but typed other stuff. It didn't really take very long at all.
And I even showed him this gigantic mark on my back that happened after the epidural in September. It doesn't hurt so I always forgot to ask about it. He called it a rash and I was like...uhhh ho no. This is not a rash. It's like a permanent discoloration and I got it HERE, my friend.
I believe if I was a Kardashian, this would be setting off some sort of lawsuit. As for me-I just kept forgetting about it-with all this other nonsense going on.
Maybe that's the moment I set the day off onto a terrible course. I'm willing to take a little bit of blame. Or maybe it started last night.
Last night, I came home from massaging, I was really, really tired and I stopped at the Jewel for the rest of my shot shooters("syringes" says P). They didn't have enough of them the first time out, so I had to go back and collect the rest. I park my car on the edge of the Jewel Parking Lot. Absolutely no big thang.
Except I ran into the pharmacist and she had time to talk.
She is a lovely person-you could not ask for a finer pharmacist-especially in our neighborhood-but last night, for some reason, she started running down all the restrictions of all the stuff I'm gonna have to be taking for all of eternity. Like there's a thing with Vitamin K, right? You either can't eat leafy greens at all, OR, you have to agree to eat them every single day. Which is, ya know, not THAT big of a deal but that's not all the rules for that drug.
Like all of a sudden she's talking about how I could bleed to death in a car accident because duh-she said-they ARE blood thinners and I felt myself doing the 'I gotta get outta here' feeling for my cough drops thing because I can handle one whole lot of stuff(and I have and I do) but that kind of 'things', was too much-even for me.
We had time between appointments. An hour and a half. And appointment two, was needles in the neck. Again. And I'm scared because this stuff has visited upon my extended family and for me-it is where it gets scary.
I was getting really agitated like a coo-coo bird. It was lunch time, I'm standing in their cafeteria and I cannot think about eating. I mean, come on people. This is me. I eat.
I went to the bathroom and couldn't go to the bathroom. I went to the gift shoppe where I snuck this undercover photo.
Hot Pickles. I've never even heard of hot pickles.
We found a kind of a quiet place to sit, P read his paper and I tried to get a grip. Or an eighth of a grip. Not happening.
Back we walk to where they told us to be. It was 12:46. They told us to sit and wait, which we did and then we got re-called for the, In case of emergency we should call P....sort of question that we'd just answered hours before. We were sent back to the same spot to wait. My appointment was at 1:00. We're watching the clock pass 1:00 and it's almost at 1:15 when they call out 'Anna Farrell' and we shuffle on after them. They send us down to the basement. We have been there before and get this: The radiology people have given away my appointment.
Here's me: I am at maximum aggitation. I've even spent a big portion of the morning going around saying: I'm very anxious about this appointment because I know I have to acknowledge the feeling. I've had five star therapy. I know the rules.
The radiology woman? She's like, but they've already started. We can't stop their procedure that's already in progress. Like that's my problem-like I didn't want to get caught in traffic tonight or something along those lines.
What a gigantic load of crap. She shrugs and says, we didn't know if you were even coming. I was like......but I got cut off by P who starts the run down of our entire day right from the very beginning and you know what? I just let him go with it. It had been his torturous day as well.
Now I'm agitated and I'm furious and I am still anticipating them finding some other rotten stuff hiding in my neck that has to be speared with a needle. Oh so entirely not cool at all.
You know what we did? We had to wait.
And eventho another room magically opened up so they could at least START my procedure, my throat-not having had to spend any time at all in the furious position-not lately anyway-felt like a family of robins moved in with some dry shredded wheat and the whole trick to this thing is not swallowing and that is the only thing I really really really wanted to do.
They had to spear only two lymph nodes-each one twice. It could have been worse.
On our way home, we stopped at Ino's and the man on Judge Judy was being accused of cheating people on gofundme by pretending he had cancer.
It was just that kind of day.