Since this post is entirely about and for ME, I have taken the initiative to BOLD the important aspects. That way you can speed read, grasp the skinny and shimmy on out… At least that’s how I’d do it.
It amazes me.
I was amazed, and still — I remain as such.
The speed at which things can get totally blown out of proportion. Uncontrollable speed. With flames shooting out of the sides of things… Like people’s heads. Or when a seemingly important but not critical, situation is looked at from another perspective, and all hell breaks loose. Kind of like Trump for President, or… entering my house with a freshly baked batch of butter filled chocolate chip cookies…. That you expect me to share… And while I am torn about whether or not to share this very personal experience with the internet, I’m just sitting here — not lifting a finger… Because that’s what I was told to do. Absolutely nothing.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to not do anything? Especially typing with my tongue — not very effective. So far, I haven’t done anything since last Wednesday around 11am. That was when I pulled my car into the Southampton Hospital Valet and threw my keys at the poor unsuspecting parking lot attendant. If only I had taken a second to acknowledge his smile… knelt down, perhaps, to smell the lovely flowers along the pathway to PATIENT ADMITTANCE. Which, I know, sounds more like some screwball confessional than anything else — but it is accurate in terms of signing yourself up for the unknown… patiently (of course).
But there I was. I had a strange pain in my right side — and being 34 weeks pregnant (give or take) my doctor didn’t hesitate to send me off to the hospital for monitoring. It would have all worked itself out eventually, had I found the ability to control my nerves, but no. No — instead I complained when the pain increased. I squirmed. And worse — I cried when the “call nurse” button on the thingamajig didn’t work and my cell phone had no service. I was, in effect, an infant — by all standard definitions… And yet, they insisted that I stay. They insisted there was something serious going on.. They introduced me to a surgeon who LOVES to cut people open. LOVES IT. He loves it so much, in fact — that he was ready to dive right in without one of those silly CAT Scans to prove that I needed my Appendix out. Medical Technology — WHO NEEDS IT?!? But no. As he went off to sharpen his knife collection, another doctor agreed to a second opinion and had me transferred to another hospital where they stand firm behind JUST THE FACTS MAN. A theory that sometimes gets lost out here in the Hamptons… you know — facts being so REAL and all.
But it WAS REAL.
AND — it was REALLY HAPPENING.
As I laid there, bouncing around in the ambulance being transferred to Stonybrook University Hospital — where ALL of the surgeons and doctors are between the ages of 18 and 25… AND where I finally found solace in the almost apologetic confirmation that NO. I did not need surgery…. AND, with the crowned jewel on top — The baby is ABSOLUTELY FINE.
But still, they wouldn’t let me leave. Because — the pain was still there and according to every 18-25 year old medical professional, House M.D. is the end all of medical mysteries… as in — there is NO SUCH THING. I actually had one late night doctor, who seemed to fancy my humor, tell me that he wasn’t letting me leave until he had this ENIGMA figured out. The enigma, of course, being me — wrapped up in a riddle, fashioned as a bleach smelling gurney. I would have laughed him right out of triage, but by then they had me all tickled pink with morphine. Those sneaky bastards. I guess I should have thanked The FOX Network for giving us this new breed of NEVER SAY NEVER die-hard docs due to HOUSE, but instead I sought my immediate exit.
And so, here I am, home since Thursday evening and starting an official countdown. My due date is in May… bets are being placed that I don’t make it through this week, although I’m not so sure about that. I am still feeling the weirdness on my right side, but with every test known to man telling me that nothing is wrong, I’m just wading around in the shallow end. I am going in for nonstop follow-ups and doctor appointments… none of which involve House OR surgeons that love surgery… And as I mentioned earlier, I have been cut-off on doing anything that involves, well, anything until we see the end of this. “This” being something that we have been looking forward to for a very looooong nine months… Excited is an understatement, as I sit here jumping on the inside. Until then, my posts will become somewhat less and less — although I will be in touch with the final outcome, of course.
AND — whew, enough already, right!
Fam and Friends — Thank you for your comfort… you have no idea.
Mr. Sal — That chair looked damn uncomfortable and yet you managed to stay in it. There are no words…
Did you like this? If so, please
bookmark it,
about it, and subscribe to the blog
RSS feed.