Blood, Sweet, and Tears
So, yesterday we had the bloodtest and pre-op.
It was a battle just getting to the hospital. The pain is terrible on its own, natch, and it's gotten so much worse, but oh how the car really aggravates it. Which is the super glossy way of saying instead of being clenched and weeping uncontrollably, it makes me flail and scream. Which is itself still a rather shiny statement.
But, much like I can't bring the surgery to me, they won't come to your house for a bloodtest, and won't do surgery without a fresh one...so as always, bring the pain.
Th pre-op was also more than usually interesting because the specialist, who is also the guy doing the surgery, was quite insistent that I would have a meeting at the hospital about my medications, allergies, etc.
But, when I got to the hospital, they denied this. Admitting took my paperwork and said someone might call me later. The spousal unit, in a moment of paranoia, went back to admitting after the bloodtest, and asked someone else. And got a different answer.
We ended up trudging off to day surgery ourselves. We got handed around a fair bit, and eventually they had to run off and grab our paperwork to where it should have been in the first place.
The hospital *so* doesn't have its shit together.
We *finally* got to talk to an anesthesiologist. Yea! Who was very supportive and well informed. Double yea! She talked to me for at least 20 minutes, making medication suggestions and such, but also telling me what to expect, and that I would be disappointed by how boring this surgery is.
I told her I had two years of way too interesting, and I would kill for some boring.
So that part of the day ended up comforting. The rest of the day went icky, but we're not going to get into that...
We are going to mention that the s.u. remains awesome. I knew, and have always known, that I've got a great partner, but wow. My body had proven to be one long cup of pure suck, but my life, isn't.
My carbon didn't turn out right. But my bonds? Those are unbreakable...
It was a battle just getting to the hospital. The pain is terrible on its own, natch, and it's gotten so much worse, but oh how the car really aggravates it. Which is the super glossy way of saying instead of being clenched and weeping uncontrollably, it makes me flail and scream. Which is itself still a rather shiny statement.
But, much like I can't bring the surgery to me, they won't come to your house for a bloodtest, and won't do surgery without a fresh one...so as always, bring the pain.
Th pre-op was also more than usually interesting because the specialist, who is also the guy doing the surgery, was quite insistent that I would have a meeting at the hospital about my medications, allergies, etc.
But, when I got to the hospital, they denied this. Admitting took my paperwork and said someone might call me later. The spousal unit, in a moment of paranoia, went back to admitting after the bloodtest, and asked someone else. And got a different answer.
We ended up trudging off to day surgery ourselves. We got handed around a fair bit, and eventually they had to run off and grab our paperwork to where it should have been in the first place.
The hospital *so* doesn't have its shit together.
We *finally* got to talk to an anesthesiologist. Yea! Who was very supportive and well informed. Double yea! She talked to me for at least 20 minutes, making medication suggestions and such, but also telling me what to expect, and that I would be disappointed by how boring this surgery is.
I told her I had two years of way too interesting, and I would kill for some boring.
So that part of the day ended up comforting. The rest of the day went icky, but we're not going to get into that...
We are going to mention that the s.u. remains awesome. I knew, and have always known, that I've got a great partner, but wow. My body had proven to be one long cup of pure suck, but my life, isn't.
My carbon didn't turn out right. But my bonds? Those are unbreakable...
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