Well, I'm back.
Surgery day was loooong. Arrived at the hospital around 8am (appointment was @ 8:30a) - but my name wasn't called until around 1pm. That puts it around 15 hours without eating food. Man, I was hungry!
It didn't help that the waiting room was footsteps away from the hospital cafeteria, though I heard from my nurse later in pre-op, that the food selection wasn't that great that day.
The hospital experience does have some flaws. First, registration desk guy should just stick to saying "good morning", verifying the surgical appointment and giving the patient their wrist tag. Leave the accounting, and any other billing questions for the appropriate department and not further stress patients on THE DAY OF THEIR SURGERY with payment questions. Plus, how am I to pay 20% of a procedure that hasn't been performed? Jeez. The hospital will get paid, and based on the statement I just received, a good chunk of that payment from my last surgery was covered by my insurance. So what's the problem?
Spending about 5 hours in the waiting room, leaves much to be desired. No real updates on when you'll be "next", and I must say, for me, being an adult and having to deal with this, I can only imagine the number of children there having to endure the same, but with shorter attention spans. The hospital should invest in having a "kids friendly" waiting room full of toys and other forms of entertainment for them while they wait.
Also, what's with the timid voices when calling patients? I spent half my time trying to hear the names called. Almost as if the nurse was scared of the room full of people? WTF?
Alas, once you're in, the "king" treatment begins. I can go on for hours on how everyone inside treats you well, and attends to your every question and need.
One way I deal with stressful situations is to just be humorous. By this time, I was in my gown (which I still wonder why they call it that when half your body is nearly exposed) and needed to pay a restroom visit. I walked by a nurse station saying "quick, runaway patient.. runaway patient" while attempting to keep my gown in place ... they all laughed. I then stopped to ask for directions to where I needed to go.
It took a while for my pre-op nurse to arrive, but, what a nice person. As soon as she walked in, I turned over to mom and said.. "Hey, it's time to order in food! -- I'll have a few hamburgers, fries, and a vanilla shake.." Whereby my nurse laughed and said.. "Yep, sure.. coming right up... let me see your arm."
She asked some pre-op questions, and through some question and answering found that I may indeed be allergic to morphine - based on what happened last month in my prior surgery. =o/
Alas, it came time to stick me with the IV which is always FUN (not), and get the drugs going.
About 20 mins later, the OR nurse arrived, verified who I was and off we went. I said "Laters" to mom, and my journey to the OR began. Like last time, the OR was full of music, but this time 80's era. Last time it was rock and roll.
I found my OR nurse had a very nice voice and was singing away. I was moving my feet back and forth in rhythm. As more OR personnel arrived, I tried to convince them to exchange the surgical lights for a disco ball, and that we could just forego the surgery and have a little dance party. - didn't work.
My anesthesiologist arrived. What a sweetheart. She looked down, and said "How ya doing, honey?" I told her she was my BFF (knowing my life would soon be in her hands) and she laughed and said... "Yep, sweetie, we are."
She then placed a mask over my face, telling me it was oxygen, and that she was about to put me to sleep. I remember her saying.. "You're going to go to sleep now, but, everything will be just fine, honey.. Don't worry about a thing."
{BLACKNESS}
I awake what turns out to be like an hour or so later to find myself in post-op recovery. To my pleasant surprise, the same nurse that attended me last time, was there. I slowly woke up, got my bearings and say.. "Hey, I know you." She replied.. "You're back? You must like it here." Mom shows up, and of course the worried look on her face. I tried to hide the pain to ease her a bit, but you can't fool mothers. She knew things were different this time.
As the drugs wore off, the pain kicked in quick, and for a moment, there was a discussion of keeping me at the hospital overnight. Some more drugs were administered and when asked if I wanted the pill or shot variety, I quickly went for the injection. Odd, since I hate needles, but definitely a sure sign that the pain I was experiencing was worse.
Time passed, and eventually I was wheeled to my mom's vehicle and as always, don't remember how I arrived at home.
Overall, except for the stupidity of the registration clerk, and 5 hour wait, the ordeal I'm sure could of gone a hell of a lot worse. Right now, recovery is slow, I'm sleeping but 4 hours at a time due to pain and occasional bleeding, but, definitely making my way towards recovery. I'm not rushing it though... this was a doozy of a procedure and my body will say "when."
For now, I'm taking things slow. I'm glad it's over, and here's hoping this is the last of it.
Showing posts with label real life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label real life. Show all posts
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Surgery 2.0 - Expanded
Alas, the long awaited day arrived. Preps for doctor visit and subsequent registration were somehow able to fit in one morning.
Some good news - according to doc, I've healed from the surgery performed about a month ago. This opened the door for the next one.
After getting the go-ahead from the doc, I made my way to the hospital to pre-register. Having gone through this process prior, I thought I knew what to expect: The obligatory blood work (which I detest), and yet some things new. An EKG, and a nurse consultation making absolutely sure where I stand on allergies, medication, prior medical problems, etc.
A sidebar: The twitpic I posted showing the needle was actually kind of interesting for the nurse. I explained I was on twitter and wanted to show some of what was going on to my followers (Ala, pics or it didn't happen). She heeded my request of "posing" without actually sticking me so I could take the snap-shot. Whereby afterwards, I told her to keep that way while I turned aside and that then she could proceed. By the way, the picture looked more menacing than the experience.
The EKG took longer to hook me up than the actual exam. In the end, both the nurse and I concluded I was alive. =o)
Next, was the nurse consultation which tested my patience a bit as it took a while for that to happen. As I waited in the lobby, it wasn't long before an older woman sitting next to me began a conversation. It was clearly evident she was apprehensive about her particular ordeal and a little jittery. Hell, I was (and still am a bit jittery) - who isn't? - but, in her case, you could see it in her eyes that she was looking for comfort and just someone to calm her and offer reassurance.
She told me that they were going to remove her gallbladder, and even went through the trouble of looking in her purse to show me the papers. Now, I'm no stranger to surgeries. This upcoming one will be my fourth. Years ago, I had my gallbladder removed, so I felt at ease in calming her down and explaining that in my case, all went well and that post-op pain was minimal. You could almost see this virtual weight lift from her, and a brightness fill her face. Moments before, she was sitting idly, dwelling on what I'm sure was a desperate and anxious moment in her life. And now, a complete stranger has given her hope and confirmation that as serious as the procedure may sound, one does recover and and life goes on.
A few moments later, her ride arrived, and she was preparing to leave. As she got up from her chair, she said "thank you", and we wished each other luck.
I'm glad I was able to give someone the help they were looking for. This surgery promises to be a bit more involved with more recovery time required - which is to say, it won't be a 4 day rest and then head to work kind, like my last one.
On Tuesday sometime, as I prepare - my heartbeat will be racing, my blood pressure will be high, and I'll be nervous, shaky and anxious. But, I'll remember this experience with this older lady, and put my words to use in hopes that the taste of my own verbal medicine will serve to calm me as well.
Some good news - according to doc, I've healed from the surgery performed about a month ago. This opened the door for the next one.
After getting the go-ahead from the doc, I made my way to the hospital to pre-register. Having gone through this process prior, I thought I knew what to expect: The obligatory blood work (which I detest), and yet some things new. An EKG, and a nurse consultation making absolutely sure where I stand on allergies, medication, prior medical problems, etc.
A sidebar: The twitpic I posted showing the needle was actually kind of interesting for the nurse. I explained I was on twitter and wanted to show some of what was going on to my followers (Ala, pics or it didn't happen). She heeded my request of "posing" without actually sticking me so I could take the snap-shot. Whereby afterwards, I told her to keep that way while I turned aside and that then she could proceed. By the way, the picture looked more menacing than the experience.
The EKG took longer to hook me up than the actual exam. In the end, both the nurse and I concluded I was alive. =o)
Next, was the nurse consultation which tested my patience a bit as it took a while for that to happen. As I waited in the lobby, it wasn't long before an older woman sitting next to me began a conversation. It was clearly evident she was apprehensive about her particular ordeal and a little jittery. Hell, I was (and still am a bit jittery) - who isn't? - but, in her case, you could see it in her eyes that she was looking for comfort and just someone to calm her and offer reassurance.
She told me that they were going to remove her gallbladder, and even went through the trouble of looking in her purse to show me the papers. Now, I'm no stranger to surgeries. This upcoming one will be my fourth. Years ago, I had my gallbladder removed, so I felt at ease in calming her down and explaining that in my case, all went well and that post-op pain was minimal. You could almost see this virtual weight lift from her, and a brightness fill her face. Moments before, she was sitting idly, dwelling on what I'm sure was a desperate and anxious moment in her life. And now, a complete stranger has given her hope and confirmation that as serious as the procedure may sound, one does recover and and life goes on.
A few moments later, her ride arrived, and she was preparing to leave. As she got up from her chair, she said "thank you", and we wished each other luck.
I'm glad I was able to give someone the help they were looking for. This surgery promises to be a bit more involved with more recovery time required - which is to say, it won't be a 4 day rest and then head to work kind, like my last one.
On Tuesday sometime, as I prepare - my heartbeat will be racing, my blood pressure will be high, and I'll be nervous, shaky and anxious. But, I'll remember this experience with this older lady, and put my words to use in hopes that the taste of my own verbal medicine will serve to calm me as well.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Video games & real life
Another news story makes the headlines... 6 yr old steals car and claims racing video games taught him how to drive.
When I was growing up, heavy metal music was believed to be the source of all evil regarding teenager behavior. Interestingly, I listened to that evil music, and I didn't become a psychotic killer.
Can it be that some kids are easily influenced and don't know what's wrong and right? Perhaps. But this headline begs the same question when stories like these make the press. Where were the parents? In this case, asleep.
Being a racing game fan, I'm bombarded with freedom and law-breaking abilities. I'm able to ram cops, speed, drift, and race all from the comfort of my own home. But, it's been eons since I've received any traffic citation for my driving habits. Could it be my parents did a great job bringing me up? Most likely.
Today, that seems to be an exception rather than the rule. Yes, times are different now, but that still doesn't negate parental responsibility. What's a 6 yr old kid doing near a car alone or better yet ... how did he manage to get the keys?
The press, lawyers and videogames-are-bad-for kids pundits have a field day with these kind of situations as the controversy of video games influencing individuals is inviting - and in the case of lawyers, a potential profit windfall.
But, one observation... If what the kid says is true, what's a 6yr old doing playing a M(ature) rated game? Game developers are rating their games fairly and ESRB ratings are hard to miss, so these two entities are doing their job.
It's time parents did theirs.
When I was growing up, heavy metal music was believed to be the source of all evil regarding teenager behavior. Interestingly, I listened to that evil music, and I didn't become a psychotic killer.
Can it be that some kids are easily influenced and don't know what's wrong and right? Perhaps. But this headline begs the same question when stories like these make the press. Where were the parents? In this case, asleep.
Being a racing game fan, I'm bombarded with freedom and law-breaking abilities. I'm able to ram cops, speed, drift, and race all from the comfort of my own home. But, it's been eons since I've received any traffic citation for my driving habits. Could it be my parents did a great job bringing me up? Most likely.
Today, that seems to be an exception rather than the rule. Yes, times are different now, but that still doesn't negate parental responsibility. What's a 6 yr old kid doing near a car alone or better yet ... how did he manage to get the keys?
The press, lawyers and videogames-are-bad-for kids pundits have a field day with these kind of situations as the controversy of video games influencing individuals is inviting - and in the case of lawyers, a potential profit windfall.
But, one observation... If what the kid says is true, what's a 6yr old doing playing a M(ature) rated game? Game developers are rating their games fairly and ESRB ratings are hard to miss, so these two entities are doing their job.
It's time parents did theirs.
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