Saturday, August 15, 2009

Why Should Trips To A Hospital With My Sister Be Any Less Insane Than When I Am The Patient?

I'm assuming from the title you can gather I spent some time at the hospital today. (And if not, I just told you.)

It started all normal, as it always does. I ran over that curb in the parking garage that I always hit right as we pass the entrance ticket gate. The first floor was packed and the only available handicap parking spot was the last one. We get out, walk to the elevator, ride up to the bridge to cross to the doctor's office building portion of the hospital. As we pass the cafeteria, this lady blatantly stares at my sister as she walks past. (We so should have grabbed her phone and snapped a photo with her so her friends could see what she saw, or at the very least said, "Take a picture; it'll last longer!" Some people just weren't taught manners, I guess.) We decide to visit "the facilities" before waiting at the doctor's office, but they were being cleaned. So, had to hold. The doctor she was there to see was held up in surgery and wouldn't be there for roughly an hour, so we went back down to the cafeteria. (Potty stop first, of course.) While coming out of the bathroom, the emergency doors all shut and alarm bells were ringing. (More annoying than anything else, but hopefully they were merely testing them.) Enter cafeteria to discover the smell of smoke. (AHA! Fire alarms!) Most of the counters weren't open for lunch yet, so we decided on burgers and fries. (Hospital burgers and fries leave something to be desired. Just saying.) The cashier accidentally charged us for an extra burger meal, and our food went cold while waiting for her manager to correct it. Then, there was something relishy about the mayo. Really, it tasted like relish. Not my favorite. But, my sister and I got to have a nice chat while eating. Finished eating and went back up to the doctor's office. Only had to wait a couple minutes before being issued to the room, that was nice. Initial questioning regarding how she's doing and her concerns about her face still being swollen and stuff, then the nurse got down to removing her stitches. She was a bit clumsy and my sister, having run out of pain meds (so on nothing at this time), was finding it unbearable her digging around for what seemed obviously easy to remove stitches. The nurse offered to ask the doctor about a numbing shot, warning that it would involve a bit of burning for 10-15 seconds and possibly multiple shots. My sister wishes for the shot(s) because what was happening to her hand was too much, and the nurse goes in search of the doc. They were gone for kind of a long time before coming in with a needle, but no doc, so off to search for him again. My sister was becoming impatient and her stitches were really bothering her, so, one-handed with the full use of only one eye and limited use of the other, removed her own stitches. (Why didn't I help, you ask? Well, clearly you do not know the power of my queasy stomach! I mean, I'm not allowed in the room when others, even when the others are complete strangers, receive shots or merely get told they are to get one. "Ms. Apple, are you alright? You seem to have fainted when we told Mr. Firzilhominguard that we had to schedule his shots next month." That's not weak! That's the courage of all the blood gaining liberty from my totalitarian upper cranial masses!) I spent the time trying not to see what she was doing by staring at the ceiling and focusing way too much attention to the article about Mariska Hargitay. My sister did a phenomenal job of removing her stitches and the doc and nurse were clearly impressed that she took the initiative to do their work for them. Me, they made fun of! (Deserved, yes.) All in all, it ensured my record of non-conventional hospital visits remains intact!

Came home to discover my Uncle Jim had brought Aunt Nicky and the new baby (along with the other 3 kids) to see my sister! However, I had a doctor appointment, so had to do a quick hug and leave, hoping that they'd still be there when I came back.

Spent the first ten minutes of the doc visit discussing how they were missing the three insurances in between the one on file and the one I'm currently on and why they were somehow billing the middle of those for a visit last year when I was on the current one. (Yeah, I know, complexities seem to magnet to me.) Near as we can figure, they went to Jason's file for insurance when the completely ancient insurance wouldn't cover someone who hasn't been on their role for at least five years. (Go fig!) Then the first five minutes with the doc himself discussing how Jason's RA is going. (At least he cares about all of the family and not just one.) Then the remainder discussing how my current migraines, vision issues, pins-and-needles in all extremities and my face, and a few symptoms that I'm not gonna embarrass myself with telling could indicate a return of something that went into remission fourteen years ago. Fun. Long story short: tests, tests, and more tests for me in my near future, which believe it or not, was what my fortune cookie told me later.

Jim and Nicky were still at my sister's when we got back. Yay! So, spent a bit visiting with them. Discussed, among other things, why she doesn't want to have as many kids as Jim has siblings. (7, Grandma is a SAINT!)

Went for Chinese buffet for dinner. Is where the ominous fortune cookie came.

1 comment:

  1. I really feel like I should say something...I dunno, encouraging?... here. But mostly I'm just snickering.

    I'm such a good friend.


The following comments are made by individuals who are not my spokespersons, mostly.