Saturday, March 6, 2010
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.