cast of characters

So, yesterday I had to have surgery again, which totally sucks beyond belief. But rather than focus on my reaction to it all (which I'm just not ready to do yet), I thought I would attempt to amuse you with some of the ridiculous things people said and did yesterday. As Mike said, "it seems like everyone brought their personality to work today!"

The pre-op nurse
She was very nice, I'm sure, but just a little obtuse. She opened with a ridiculously chipper, "So, you didn't realize you were going to have surgery today?!" Um, no. Followed by, "So this wasn't planned?" No, most definitely not. "So what are you here for?" Seriously, you have to ask?!, I thought to myself. A D&C, I responded, isn't it written in my chart?. "Yes, but why?" For a miscarriage, I bellowed at her. At that, I pointedly started reading my magazine in order to avoid any more attempts at conversation.

The anaesthesiologist
Okay, so this guy didn't really say anything weird, he just was weird. He tended to just stare without saying much, which was really disconcerting. It made me glad that med schools nowadays are teaching bedside manner.

The nurse who put in my IV
She at least had read my chart, so she knew why I was there. But by the time she left, I started wishing she had been unaware also.
She started off great, expertly inserting the IV (I hate that part!) and effectively distracting me while she did so. Then she stuck around to "chat." "Oh, honey, this is such an awful thing to go through!" It is! I got a little teary. "My daughter went through terribly fertility problems, so I know just what you're going through! It's so awful! My heart just breaks for her... and you." She added me as an afterthought, then proceeded to embrace me in an inappropriate bearhug. Look lady, I'm sorry for you and your daughter, but this is about me and I don't want to deal with your stuff right now. Of course, since I was still crying (damn her for opening the flood gates, although really it doesn't take much), I think she took that as encouragement that she was "helping" and we were "sharing a moment." Eventually I couldn't take it anymore so, with my face smashed against her bosom, I gave her some hints to let go. Um, thank you, I said, thanks... Eventually she let go. Ugh. I heard her mentioning to the next nurse coming in that she made me cry. Thanks a lot.

The nurse anaesthetist
For some reason, no one could find my blood type in the hospital's computer system, and for some reason they wouldn't believe me. (I'm B+! I've given blood for three different organizations and they have all told me I'm B+!) So she got in this big discussion with me about whether I'd need a rhogam shot after the surgery. I kept telling her that I thought it would be irrelevant because I'm B+, but she told me that they would need to test me for the antibodies. Around and around we went. Finally she said she'd talk to my doctor about it. Good idea.

The OR nurse
I have nothing negative to say about him. I have no idea what he looked like, however, because the OR Nazis (that's you, nurse anaesthetist and anaesthesiologist!) made me take out my contacts for the surgery. But the OR nurse was very friendly, as I recall. Of course, by that time the sedatives started to kick in, so I didn't care about anything at that point. Other than wanting my contacts back.

The post-op nurse
By far the best of the bunch. Gentle and caring. If I could remember her name, I would write a note to the hospital about her. Unfortunately, the sedation was still wearing off, so I have no idea. Maybe Mike remembers?

The post-op medical assistant
She offered to take my IV out. I should have said something when my wonderful post-op nurse sounded a bit surprised and asked if she was "really comfortable doing that?" My only excuse was that my brain still wasn't firing on all its cylinders at that point. She began by taking the tape off the IV. (If you've ever had an IV before, you know that they tape it down all the way up your arm so it doesn't move.) She proceeded to tear the tape off very, very slooooowly. GO FAST! I yelled. TEAR IT OFF LIKE A BANDAID! She giggled. Ugh. I now have a square inch on my forearm where there is no hair, since she ripped each one out one by one. Then, when she finally got all the tape off (she continued to go slowly, by the way, but it wasn't nearly as painful on the back of my hand as it was on forearm), she pulled the actually IV out. Now, for illustrative purposes, a brief review: where does the IV go? (answer: in a blood vessel) so when you take it out, what do you expect might happen? (answer: it will bleed) Okay, so back to the story. She took out the IV, and proceeded to just stare at my hand as the blood welled up, larger and larger. It nearly covered the back of my hand before Mike finally said to me, "Don't look!" (as, apparently, I was getting pale again. Who knew that I'm sensitive to my own blood?!) This apparently jarred her out of complacency (or her own shock, who knows) and she put some bandages on it. I guess everyone needs to practice their skills on someone, and I was her dummy. Ugh.

And, finally, my doctor
I adore my doctor and completely trust her. She said it's still most likely that this was a fluke and that we'll have success next time, but she's going to run some tests to be sure. Unfortunately, she warned us that the genetic testing on the fetal tissue will likely be inconclusive since it stopped developing almost two weeks ago, so that's disappointing. Even more unfortunately, the blood testing she wants to have done on me can't get done until about a month after the surgery (when all the pregnancy hormones will definitely be out of my system), and our insurance is changing on August 1. We'll have to weigh the cost of me switching to Mike's grad school insurance in September (which my doctor would be "in network" for) vs. the cost of me staying on my employer's insurance (which is pretty expensive for how limited it is, including that it definitely does not include my doctor). I guess we have time to figure it out, since she said the testing doesn't have to be done, and it certainly doesn't have to be done right away.


So, there you have it. Last time was certainly less "colorful" in its cast of characters. Hopefully I don't ever have to go through this again.




Post script:
I forgot to mention perhaps the most important character in all this! MIKE! He continues to be the most wonderful "recovery supervisor." He distracts me during pre-op, comforts me during post-op, gets me all my favorite foods, makes sure I'm taking my meds on time, gives me lots of time to rest, and tells me stop apologizing when I keep crying all the time. He's the best! He even bought me the Arrested Development DVDs to watch while I recover. Thank you, Mike!