Hospital Blogging!

Because I can!  What an amazing world, huh?

So I landed in the hospital earlier than the surgeon wanted.  Well... I don't know that for sure, but he has no bed side manner...  I went to the ER on Wednesday -- one full week before the appointment that was supposed to be my consultation to set up the surgery. The ER Doctor determined I needed surgery ASAP.  The reluctant surgeon spoke with me and gave me two options:

1.  We admit you and get your pain under control and then you can go home tomorrow and then see me next to set up surgery.
2.  We admit you and get your pain under control then do surgery on you tomorrow.

I chose number 2.

In the ER they gave me this wonderful pharmaceutical called, "Dilaudid."  Good heavens.  That was nice.  Until I was in the hospital and pushed the nurse call button:

Nurse:  How can I help?

Me:  Trouble ... breathing ...

Nurse:  [cheerfully]  I'll be right down!

His voice was so happy, I was totally less scared.  I was!  Then he and two other nurses came bursting through the door with a crash cart "just in case".  They pulled down my gown and saw the rash -- time to take away my ice cream cone on a hot day.  I went from chocolate ice cream cone to lime popsicle (fentanyl).

Around midnight, I was sitting up in my bed sobbing.  The CNA wandered in and gave me a hug, "Let's get you fixed."  She got to the nurse and they introduced me to Percoset....  That is like the banana split of pain killers!

After all of that, the surgeon visited me the next morning and asked how I was -- as he was reading my chart.  I said I was much better and he looked hopeful, "Do you want to go home and do this next week?"

What the?

I turned down his generous offer.

There is a point.

After the surgery, he talked with my sister and father and told them, "She's lucky she came in when she did.  One more day and she would have been in a lot of trouble."  The little turd hasn't talked to me yet.

If he waits much longer, I think there's going to be a lot of trouble....

The very good, very happy news, is that I'm going to be okay and that I'm feeling like a rock star...

Now where is that mocha with whipped cream and the chocolate chip scone?

Vicodin and Temper Tantrums

The week started out pretty okay...  Then went into the crapper pretty fast.

I found myself in a city two hours away with a freaking gallstone attack.  If you've had one, you know the fun of which I speak.  If you haven't had one, you do not want to know the fun of which I speak.

I don't even want to talk about the details because I've had to repeat them several times already to my boss, clients, loved ones, and the nurses/doctors.  I'm rather tired of talking about the details.  I'm rather tired, actually.

And not entirely proud of myself.  When I got to my doctor's office, I had the preliminary bs with the nurse.  She was not one of his two regular nurses.  In fact, I think she must be the spare that is kept in the back of the clinic to do paperwork because compassion and common sense are not in her skill set.

First she weighs me -- which always makes me hate the nurse for thirty seconds.  Although -- today -- showed I'd lost some weight.  yay.  Before she takes my vitals, she wants to know why I'm there.  Again, I don't feel like sharing all the details since all you need to know is that, by the time my fanny is in that chair, I've been dealing with this pain for ohhhh .... 33 hours (which I told her) and I've slept for maybe ohhhhh .... five hours during that 33 hours (which I told her).

Onto the vitals and the interrogation:

Nurse:  Wow.  Your blood pressure is high.  Do you take blood pressure medicine -- should we be looking at that, too?

SS: [sliding my bleary, red rimmed eyes to her and trying to desperately telepathically communicate to her that she is a stupid bitch]  I do not take blood pressure medicine.  Do you see that on my chart?  And wouldn't I have elevated blood pressure because I've been at a level 8 pain for 33 hours?

The Best Use of Email

Email has a ton of great uses.  But the best so far?  Emailing your doctor.  The world of online appointment scheduling and emailing my doctor has just arrived in my corner of the world.  I don't just like it, I LOVE it.  A person always feels their worst on the weekend or at night when the office is closed.  To be able to log in and see if there is an appointment available for the next business day is consoling.  To be able to log in and send an email saying, "This is my deal.  Call me back." is even better.

Yes, yes.  One can call and be on terminal hold until someone answers and tells you there isn't anything available for a week -- oh, but you feel really bad?  Let me leave a message with your doctor's office.  Then you wait for the doctor to call you back.  This way, it goes right to the doctor -- or, rather, his nurse and she takes care of calling you back and doing what needs to be done while you do the other things that need to get done when you aren't feeling well -- like sleeping or those urgent work emails.

Sunday, February 17, 4:15pm:  E-Mailed Dr:  Here's my problem.  I'm going out of town for a week.  Any way you can beam a prescription to my pharmacy before I have to leave town on Monday afternoon?  If you can't get it to them before I leave, this is where I'm staying and this is the closest pharmacy.

All the information is there -- no rolling my eyes while the nurse has to write it all down.  I'm sure she appreciates not having to write it all down, too.

Monday, February 18, 2:26pm (which is about the same time I would have heard back if I would have called and sat on hold and then been transferred to talk to the nurse):  Call back from Dr.'s Nurse.  I talked with the doctor.  We didn't get the prescription to your local pharmacy in time.  We're calling the one you gave us the info for in your email.  Also consider 800mgs of ibuprofen for this matter.

Monday, February 18, 4:07pm:  Prescription in hand.  Problem going to go away this week instead of next week.

Bing.  Bam.  Boom.  Best use of email.