Tuesday, June 7, 2011

hearts and flowers and implements of destruction

February 17, 2011 at 6:09pmWe don't really celebrate Valentine's Day.  Something about a Hallmark holiday loosely based upon a massacre that just strikes us as a bit odd. That said, I made Peter a card.  Well, I used crayons on a piece of printer paper.  It was sappy.  It was cute.  It meant more than some generic store-bought thing ever could.  He surprised me with a planter of hyacinths.  Pink hyacinths - I didn't have any pink ones.  I have blue and white and red (er, very dark pink?) and grape, but these are light pink.  And they're starting to bloom and smell so freaking good... yeah, he wins.  But then, so do I.

Marring the holiday was the scheduled surgery for the next day.  I had my bloodwork (CBC et al) done Friday.  Had typing and cross match done on Sunday.  Was told "don't take off the bracelets" meaning the plastic crinkly one with sharp edges and the thinner thermal paper one with the stickers that like to jump off onto everything around them (for the blood typing.)  And then... Monday evening we received a call that the surgery had been rescheduled until Friday.  The doctor assured me that the bloodwork I'd already had done would be fine for then and told me not to take the bracelets off.  I was good.  I made it through Monday and Tuesday... getting grumpier and grumpier because the thin one was on so tight it cut into my wrist and the wide one was crinkly enough that I couldn't sleep - every time I moved it would sound like a cellophane cat toy and wake me up. Wednesday I'd had enough.  With near surgical precision we cut the crinkly one off along the line where it joins.  Ahhh relief.  then we lifted the edge of one of the stickers and cut the blood one off... and many sighs of satisfaction were heard... well, once I massaged feeling back into my wrist and got the blood flowing into my hand.  And not one twinge of guilt was felt.  I figured I'd use some creative scotch taping to get them back on before surgery. No worries.
Wednesday... ahhh.
Thursday... ah... wait, what was that? Hospital called - just reminding me that I needed to come in for type and cross match bloodwork before surgery tomorrow.
What?  Called them back.
Told them the doctor said I'd be fine with what they'd already done.
On hold.
No, I needed to come in to do type and cross match.
But I've already done that.
When was it done?
On hold.
You're sure it was Sunday?
Yes. I'm sure.  Says so right on the bracelet.
Let me call the lab.
On hold.
On hold.
really sucky music
On hold.
hold hold hold
la la la la la
hold hold hold
try not to fall asleep while on hold
la la la la la
No, the lab says you have to have it done again because that test is only good for 48 hours.  You need to come on in.
*sigh* Ok then.

Get to hospital.
I'm here for pre-op bloodwork
admissions lady: I don't have any orders for you.
I was called and told to come in... surgery rescheduled... need new type and cross match... blah blah blah...
Let me check for orders.
wait wait wait.
It is now past 2, Peter needs to be at work by 3:30.
wait wait wait.
Oh, here we are.  Sign this, give me your ID.  copy copy copy
Sign here and here and here and here and here and here and here and initial this one and did you wash behind your ears this morning and sign over here too. Oh and here's your ID.
(I may have exaggerated about the ears thing.)

Take this to the lab.

Go to lab. Wait. Push buzzer.  Buzzer doesn't make any noise. Wait.
wait. wait. wait.
Are you being helped?
Nooooo. Not yet.
*takes paperwork*
Ok, have a seat.
wait. wait wait wait.

Oh, look, the phlebotomist is the one who left needle tracks on my arm last Friday.  Joy.  *sigh*
wait wait wait.

My turn.
So, which arm do you want this time?
*show her the track mark she left last time on one arm and the bruise I have from the last type cross match on the other arm.*
We'll go with this one (the one she tracked), but we'll go easy this time, hmm?
Sounds good.
Oh, just a little stick.
*eyes widen* It's not there yet?
Just about *STAB* There we go.
tube, tube, tube.  Oh, wrong one, just a second.  rummage, rummage, new tube, tube. releases tourniquet.
Oh, just a second.
Here we go, going to pull it out now... *SCRAPE*
*sucked in breath* Eeep.
Now *with gauze over stick site* push down HARD on this so it doesn't bruise like your other one.
(Oh, I see, that was MY fault??!!??)
*tapes down gauze with three strips of tape*
*eyes flutter closed, almost in a faint*
You ok?
A little dizzy.
Did you have a good lunch?
Uhm, no, I had an instant breakfast a few hours ago.  I didn't KNOW I'd be stuck today.
Well, it's probably just your blood sugar then.  You can go. Oh, and you don't have to keep that big bracelet on, just the thin one.  They'll give you a new (crinkly) bracelet each time you come in.
*stand up, about fall over, grab file cabinet to stay standing*
Ok, have a good day now.
*she walks out, leaving me to stagger out of the other door and across the hall to Peter*

Pain shooting through my arm, but not making me scream like last time, so I figured that maybe, just maybe this was a better stick.

Got to Mom's.

Took off the gauze, realized I'd been bleeding rather profusely into the gauze.  Still, it had stopped now, so all good.  Look at the stick... *sigh*  tracked.  again.  AND bruised.  *headdesk*

So, tomorrow morning (Friday) we will leave the house around 6am in order to get to the hospital by 7am in order for them to have "plenty of time" to get me ready for my surgery which is scheduled at 8:30am.  If all goes well, the surgery should take a relatively short time.  Less than an hour, closer to half an hour/40 minutes or so.  Then wakey-wakey and home I go.

I'm tired. I want to curl up and sleep.  But I need to tackle the mound of homework that I'm not going to want to do tomorrow.  Here's hoping all goes well.

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