Tuesday, March 24, 2009

General Hospital

Before today, I never realized the value of a shower. This is not a mistake I will ever again make; a shower will never be taken for granted as far as I'm concerned. But I'm getting a little ahead of myself ...

Have you ever noticed that, when something is on your mind, you seem to see it everywhere? Like, when I was pregnant with Belle, it seemed like the mall and the streets and the entire world were full of pregnant women. Today, it's food.

When I was waiting for my ERCP, I was in one of eight or ten little cubicle rooms, so I could hear a bunch of conversations going on around me. I kid you not, virtually every conversation revolved around food. The people in the room next to me had gone out to breakfast, and every time someone came into the room, they were like, "Have you ever eaten at Young's? Their French toast is to die for!!!!!!!!!" I'm sitting there salivating, trying to figure out whether to laugh or cry. (I ended up going with laughing, by the way ... if it had just been one person, I would have cried, but since the whole freaking endoscopy unit was enchanted with edibles, it became funny).

So then the nurse came in and started asking me questions that were clearly obvious. First, she verified my name and birthdate with my hospital bracelet. I kind of wanted to say, "Trust me, I'd rather be anyone but me right now." Why would someone fake an identity to get surgery? Well, I guess life is full of strange people. Next question was whether or not I have any allergies. My hospital bracelet (which she'd studied at length) has a red tag on it that I've been told is code for "Patient has Medical Allergies", plus the list of antibiotics that make me break out in hives and stop breathing was clearly noted on a red sticker on the front and spine of my hospital file that came down with me. Finally--and this is what got me the most--she asked if I was pregnant. I told her no, and she said, "Is there any possibility you're pregnant?" I told her again that it wasn't remotely possible--and like this is something you want to admit to a complete stranger--yet she made me take a pregnancy test ... just in case. Wow ...

I was under anasthesia for the ERCP, obviously, so I don't remember any details, but the results were good. I didn't have any pseudocysts like I've had with pancreatitis in the past, and there was no blockage. This was good news. I felt like dancing.

Instead, I took a shower. And I direct you now to go back and reread the first paragraph of this post ... ah, bliss : )

As you've probably figured out by how long-winded I am, I'm starting to really feel better. With any luck, I'll be going home Thursday and, being me, will probably doctor the doctor's note so I'll be back at work on Friday.

Thank you to all that have read my recent posts and left comments. Being in the hospital stinks, and the loneliness is probably the worst part ... even when people visit, you don't really have anything to talk about other than blocked IV tubes and peeing into a hat (the medical kind, not the one that goes on your head) and my visitors have been kind enough to avoid talking about food and the fabulous existence out there beyond these hospital walls, so it's kind of like ... blah. So reading your comments and well wishes have meant a great deal. Thank you : )

Anyway, I can't wait to get out of here when I can think about (and blog about) the workings of the world instead of the sorry state of my digestive system.