Journal SarahAnnAlien's Journal: Carving a Chunk out of an Alien
I had my minor surgery today. It took longer than I expected.
I chickened out and took the shuttle from the campus to the medical center. It just seemed easier that way.
I arrived twenty minutes early, as instructed. Found a bathroom... five minutes gone. Wander around like an idiot... five more minutes gone.
My notes said "3rd Floor". Found the third foor, roughly where one would expect a third floor to be... but couldn't find an office that looked plausibly like the one I wanted.
Had a conversation like this: "Hi, I'm not sure where I'm supposed
to be..." "Okay, what's your name?
Huh? The third floor is... on the first floor? Um...
She's pretty insistent... so I go down to the first floor.
Five more minutes gone. I find a desk marked "Registration" on the
first floor. Stand there for a while. Wait for the woman to get off
the phone. "Hi, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be... "
"Okay, name
Um, I just *came* from the third floor... they said come down here... ?
Several confusing minutes later, it is finally revealed that "ambulatory care center" is their name for "that other building down the street..."
Well, someone *might* have pointed that out! I've never *been* to the "other" building before!
And now I'm late.
Ok, quick, out of the building, down the street, find the other building, find the elevator, up to the third floor... aha, this looks like the right window!
"What are you doing here? You have to go to registration first. First floor."
Okay, things are starting to become clear. Annoying, but clear.
Down to first floor. Registration window. Take a number. Wait five minutes.
"Hi, i have an appointment today and they said I need to come down here..." Give him my medical card. Typing. Typing. More typing. What the heck are they typing, and couldn't they type it ahead of time? He's not asking me for any information... I have no idea what he's doing.
Then he looks confused. "Who is so-and-so?"
Oops... FormerSelf creeps back into their computers. I thought we changed all of that.
I briefly explain the alien thing.
"Oh, ok... " I ask why everything hasn't been changed yet, and he tells me, "well, this is different, because you're having a procedure done."
Ok, whatever.
Finally, he hands me a sheet of laser-printed sticky labels which are apparently the magic token I need to be admitted upstairs. Back up the elevator. Hand the woman my magic labels. She tells me to go through the door into the waiting room and have a seat.
Success! I'm now in the waiting room, and only about ten minutes late.
In just a couple minutes, I'm invited in to the treatment room. Given a "gown" and told to undress from the waist up. Same old drill.
The young doctor comes in; the one I saw two months ago. She remembers me from my last appointment, two months ago. She asks about the driving thing! I tell her about my lessons and my car. We chat. She's nice.
Various preparations occur. The supervising doctor comes in too. Both examine me, and together they discuss various options for carving me up. Eventually they come up with a plan. Supervising doctor leaves. I talk with the other doctor a little more. I sign the necessary forms. And then I ask for a little potty break before the excitement happens.
Finally everyone's ready to start. I lay on my tummy and they start sticking me with needles. Lidocaine and epinepherine, buffered with sodium bicarb. I like that the young doctor is telling me stuff. She goes slowly. I don't even feel the needles.
After a bunch of shots I can't feel... more preparations. Adjust the lights. Tape my hair back. Set up stuff that I can't see because I'm on my tummy. Supervising doctor comes in. Nurse comes in.
The actual surgery starts. Painless, thanks to the injections. But not silent. Snip, snip, snip. It sounds like someone trying to debone a chicken with fingernail clippers. Periodic tugging. I listen to them talk: "can you see..." "oh, there it is..." "do you want to..." "no, I don't like to do it that way..."
Ten minutes go by. I start to feel a little pain. "Um, I'm starting to feel that..." "Okay, we'll fix that..." Pain goes away.
Twenty minutes... thirty minutes. Ok, it's out. Wow, it's big, they tell me. 3cm x 2cm x 2cm. They'll show me afterward.
Next up... electrocautery machine. Which isn't turned on. Ok, now machine is on. Beep... sizzle. Beep... sizzle. Five minutes worth.
Actually this was a part I had been worried about. You know how they usually tell you to stop taking aspirin for a couple weeks before surgery? Well, I was told *not* to do that; my neurologist would prefer that I keep taking it. Ah, the joys of having a stroke in your 30's. But the doctor knew about it, and said that she could handle the surgery even with the aspirin. And apparently, she was right.
Okay, electrocautery done. Next up: two layers of subcutaneous stitches. I'm starting to get tired. I lay my head down and close my eyes. I could actually fall asleep, I think.
Ok, now stitches to close...
Supervising doctor leaves. Actually, she's gone in and out throughout the event.
Next, adhesive strips to support the stitches...
Young doctor holds up a small bottle with a pink and white chunk of stuff in it. Oh, that's what they removed. Wow, it *is* a lot bigger than I thought it would be.
Young doctor leaves.
Nurse starts to assemble pressure dressing... another ten minutes. We talk about the alien thing while she works. Her daughter is a makeup artist. She recommends spa pedicures.
Ok, finally, I can get off the table. Ow, my chest hurts, and I'm a little wobbly and disoriented. I manage to get both feet on the floor. I wander over to the mirror to look at my back. There's a white lump the size of a golf ball back there. That's the pressure dressing.
The dressing is waterproof, so I can take a shower. I'm supposed to leave it on "until it gets too annoying". They predict two or three days. No exerting or stretching my back. Limit activity. Come back in two weeks to have the stitches removed. Young doctor tells me that if I have problems I should call the operator and have her paged, except that she might not have her pager with her this weekend, since she's not on call. If she doesn't answer the page, I'm supposed to ask for the on-call doctor instead.
And... I'm on my way out. Two hours after arriving. Gee, I didn't think it would take that long.
Find another bathroom... then back to the shuttle stop. Back to the office. Adventure finally over. Big sigh.
I arrived back at the office at roughly the same time as the pizza arrived in the conference room! A nice treat.
Unfortunately, my morning had worn me out, and I was too tired to really get anything done. I ended up skipping out a couple hours early, which was fine, since I've put in extra hours every other day this week due to my efforts to avoid traffic in the morning.
Driving home went ok. It turns out that there's a lot less traffic at 3pm.
When I got home, I tried to take a nap, but I was a little too tired and a lot too tense. It's been a long week. And my back was starting to hurt, finally.
Friday night social thing is out of the question... too tired. Maybe next month.
My Saturday morning drive is still a possibility, but may get cancelled due to rain. We'll see what the weather is like in the morning.
Saturday night social thing will also get skipped, I'm guessing. I need quiet time alone to relax this weekend.
