Another “boot strap” day. Work a little — tell Stephanie (my student) Thursday might be in jeopardy but don’t even try (yet) to reschedule with her or any clients. We’ll have to wait and see until (Monday? I hope) for the whens and whats.
Although I try desperately to be hopeful about my afternoon to come; doubt and fear prevail.
I leave work early to arrive home for emotional and physical prep and an equally traumatized Tom and I go to the hospital for my testing. Thank God (for me, not him!) he is off this week; to accompany me on such distasteful appointments.
I am to have a chest X-ray, EKG and blood/urine work-up. I had asked on the phone when I scheduled this what the sequence was likely to be so I could time the taking of my valium with bloodwork - both to maximize calm during this and minimize “stupid” during other procedures.
When we arrived at the pre-surgery desk, I asked (and asked) again — carefully explaining that I tend to peak about 1 ½ - 1 hour in. Although pleasant and attempting to be helpful, I got answers ranging from “take them at 2:15 to 2:30 to 2:45). Opting for 2:45 as the best estimate, at 2:43 I reappeared to see if they were on time/track, especially as I’d just overheard 2 other wait room patients grumbling that they were very late in being taken back. I was reassured that now was the time…only to find myself barely able to answer intake questions at 3:15, and nearly asleep during my EKG.
By the time I was sent floors away to the blood draw place, I think it was after 4:00 p.m. and I had to wait longer for the people in line ahead of me. So - I took 2 more (that made 5!) valium and felt unpleasantly drunkish by the time I was called in. I was immediately delighted by the pleasant, warm and engaging manner of the poor woman who got stuck with me, and in many ways she reminded me of my beloved Venus.
However, the difference ended with her inability to draw anything but eventual tears from me. Right crook, left crook and then (ouch!) between my left hand knuckles, all the while obligingly telling me a story about her upcoming wedding to distract me. She was very sweet and kind (and I hope she went on to have a lovely wedding and Toronto honeymoon, as planned) - but sadly confirmed what I already knew, that I appear to be a veinless wonder.
When she suggested that a male colleague be called in to have a gander at me, I cried harder but either the valium or profound resignation had set in, and I agreed to walk past my husband’s horrified expression in the waiting room and into a neighboring office, for try number 4.
Immediately a screaming baby took my place with poor Venus-like woman, while I felt envious of the uncensored cries of horror that children are allowed to make under the circumstances (tinged with compassion for this unseen little one). In any case, Aaron (I think — but who was up for introductions) came in with a West Indies accent although he barely spoke — no nonsense, no stories, and no exchanges. Although I asked him to promise not to try unless he was sure to succeed, I couldn’t tell if he agreed, because before I knew what hit me he seemingly struck gold, as I heard (and felt) tube after tube being inserted.
He did it! I told him that if I weren’t a married woman I’d kiss him on the lips - (meant to reward, not punish! I’ll have to think up a better one next time!) and gleefully (and somewhat drunkenly) announced the success to Venus like lady on the way out. The sound of infant wails continued to follow us as we left - with me relieved that for now, they weren’t to be joined by 47 year old ones!
After this, my chest x-ray was anticlimactic and dinner out (while groggy and starving) with Dennis and Zoe was heavenly. Thank God for now, I can still eat as a reward. I do wonder what will ever replace the luxuriant feeling of a grand restaurant meal, lingered over, with good friends and decadence.
April 17th, 2009 | 
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