Saturday, March 6, 2010

I'm Baaaack!


Looking at the picture here probably conjures up some questions. Well, now that my stress level has dropped and I'm worry free, I'll share yesterday's experience. Even in the worst situations you can find humor.

This is a table used by a urologist to do a bladder scoping. Yes, doesn't that sound fun. They put cameras on everything these days. I'd heard of "stirrups" before, but I thought those days were over when I stopped have to visit the Gynecologist years ago. These stirrups leave no room for error. The term, "let your knees fall apart" is never uttered because you have no choice. I had no idea I could do the splits. *lol*

My day started with a CT scan of my kidneys. Although I was perfectly calm, that calm only settled when I realized the scanner wasn't one of those long tunnel types that make my claustrophobia flare. In fact, your head doesn't even go inside. The prize: The dye they inject to light up your organs. Talk about a hot flash! Luckily, it lasts just a few moments and it wasn't so bad. The tech was awesome and made the test go much faster.

The wait for the scoping was the worse. The waiting room was filled...mostly with older men, so I had lots of time to sit and conjure up what would happen. I remained fairly calm and collected though because I elected to have the "sleepy" med rather than the "numbing" med. When given a choice, I prefer to sleep and not know what's going on. Sometimes it pays to be clueless.

When my name was finally called, I was instructed to shed everything except my socks. Now doesn't this paint a great image. *lol* But, I was given a lovely green gown, a pair of mesh booties to match the lovely net for my head, and guided to a comfy chair where the nurse covered me with a warm sheet.

It was freezing in that place, and the room was filled with cubicles separated with only curtains...everyone dressed just like me. Honestly, the men looked more ridiculous, but it was definitely not a fashion expose...and no privacy I caught my husband smirking when he caught sight of my new garb, but he quickly dipped his head to hide his face. As you often read in romance novels, my nipples were pebbled, but they were in my lap so no one noticed.

I didn't have to wait long until another nurse showed up and asked that I accompany her to the "procedure" room. Inside is where I saw this table. She was brusk, to the point, and before I knew it had captured my tree-trunk legs into this giant "thigh-master."

I kept waiting for the "sleepy" medicine, but she went to work, warning me she had to touch my private area and it was going to be cold. She didn't mention the pain. *smile* Well, so much for modesty as she whipped my gown and sheet up over my head and gave me a rub down in the most delicate of areas with something that felt akin to a Brillo Pad. Then she announced she had to use two swabs. Honestly, I believe she worked for Roto-Rooter in a previous life. Where the hell was my "sleepy" medicine?

The doc finally came in and asked how I was? Really...he didn't know? He had my chart, is the one who scheduled me for this torture, sees me at my worst and he wants to know how I am.

"Fine," I mumbled, but all these questions whirred through my head.

"Where's my "sleepy" medicine," I asked.

"Oh, that's right." He walked over and adjusted my IV (did I mention I had that put in before the CT scan?) and then disappeared between my legs and began the procedure. I felt everything, but I have to admit it wasn't any worse than the Brillo Pad and Roto-rootering and was over even quicker.

Back in the "recovery" room, I was cautioned to sit until I felt less woozy. Who felt woozy? I finished my $89.00 bottle of Orange Juice, put on my clothes, left with my husband, and immediately fell asleep in the car. Finally, my "sleepy" medicine kicked in.

I think Kelly enjoyed being able to drive with me in the car without my constant nagging about his techiques. *rofl*. I did enjoy a nice nap for the entire afternoon, and I'm happy to say, that all the prayers, positive vibes, good thoughts, and good friends helped me hear those wonderful words, "Everything looks fine."

My wish for everyone...when faced with a situation like this, those are the only words you hear.

18 comments:

Cindy Jacks said...

So glad everything worked out as best as possible and that you can look back on it with humor :) Hugs and happy thoughts!

Cate Masters said...

So glad everything went well, Ginger! Those pics made me shiver too. Brr!

Maggie Dove said...

I'm glad that you can laugh at it. I can only imagine the scare you must have gone through...yesterday...and the days leading up to your procedure. My hands tremble every time I dial the doctor's office for my yearly physical. And I, thank God, have no physical problem. It is only a check up! Being a hypocondriac, I totally appreciated your post!

Maggie

Maggie Dove said...

I'm having a senior moment and I am not sure how you spell hypocrondriac...but I don't have time to look it up in the dictionary because I'm guesting on my first blog radio show and I'm freaking out! I think I'm going to open a bottle of wine so that I can find my voice!

Lorrie said...

So glad to hear all is right-side-up with your world again.
That damn sleepy medicine never works when it is supposed to. Of course that's the first thing I nag everyone about as soon as I step into the hospital bed. Yes, put me out. Give me a little extra of the good stuff.
Then the doctor tells me he saves the good stuff for the staff after all the patients leave. Go figure.
I'm happy to hear the good news. Great post. Thanks for sharing.

Diane Scott Lewis said...

Ginger, glad you could find humor in this episode. It always helps.
You made me laugh, which helped me too, LOL.

Phyllis Campbell said...

You're so funny! If I ever have that procedure, you can bet I'll be thinking of this blog the whole time. lol I'm glad everything turned out fine, though.

Love ya, woman!

~Phyllis~

Author Mary C said...

You're one strong lady, Ginger. Glad it went well, despite the brillo padding. Yikes.

Take care!

J.A. Saare said...

Something that would terrify me, yet, is told with such humor you can't help but smile. I'm so glad things went well. ;)

Margaret Tanner said...

Fabulous news that you are in the clear Ginger, at least you kept your sense of humour during all those "indignities."
I suppose you'll be writing a medical romance next???

Anonymous said...

How do you do that? Make a awful situation...into a good read...You made me feel everything you endured and then made me laugh about it...Wishing you good health for many years to come...You are the best...

Anonymous said...

How do you do that? Make a awful situation...into a good read...You made me feel everything you endured and then made me laugh about it...Wishing you good health for many years to come...You are the best...

Trent Kinsey said...

Ugh...I feel for ya...I'm glad you can look back and laugh! It's always the best medicine :D

Diane M. Wylie said...

I have to hand it to you, Ginger, you certainly know how to tell a good story. You can even make a medical procedure entertaining! So glad you heard those good words at the end of all the torture.

Angela Daniels said...

Pleased for you that everything is ok! I recently had a CT scan myself and the warm sensations in my nether regions had me thinking I was pissing on myself. Happily that was the worse part of the experience!

Sharon Donovan said...

Hi Ginger, glad all was fine. But you had me cracking up the entire time I read this. Spare the humiliation and bring on the humor. It sure helps.
Hugs,
Sharon

Latesha said...

Ginger, So glad that everything turned out well for you. Take it easy and continue to feel better.

Lisabet Sarai said...

Ginger, dear,

I've been keeping you in my thoughts. I'm so happy that all looks clear.

What I love about you is the way you can take an experience like this and make it humorous. That is a great gift.

Hugs,
Lisabet

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