FIRE!
Jason caught up with me about an hour after I arrived, and waited with my in my pre-op room. We sat talking minimally as I turned to my yarn for calm and strength. I am so glad I brought my yarn and hook because I waited much longer than I was originally told.
We listened to a mother-daughter pair across the hall, acting out in full dysfunction mode. The Mom using words like: Unacceptable! We are Professors! What’s TAKING so long? and the teenage girl of course in hysterical tears. Neither of them doing the other any favors. I was sitting in a gown and a robe and footsie socks with my yarn and a band-aid from where the nurse stabbed me, a little cold and very vulnerable.
The nurse had weighed me, taken my temperature, blood, asked me questions and then left me. An hour later a different nurse came in and started the exact same routine. I said to Jason: “They are VERY thorough here.” Finally the nurse caught on that this had already been done to me when I showed her the band aid. This made me a little nervous after the whole urine episode.
Making matters worse, NOT better, is this little tiny light on the wall labeled FIRE blinked the entire time we waited–about 2 hours. It was very disconcerting and irritating to have a bright flash while you told yourself this was not deja vu or the twilight zone, just a very thorough nursing staff.
WALK OF FEAR
Suddenly it was time to go. A giant tattooed man in scrubs picked me up and all of my belongings and then we picked up another man dressed just like me. He placed my valuables on a counter (another one) and said something like: “My colleague will take care of that.” I tried not to have my doubts. The scrubs man, the other patient and me and our spouses walked to an elevator bank where we parted ways.
They were a middle-aged couple and she was super positive and kissed him on the lips. I can’t remember if Jason said anything because I was busy thinking about how strange it was that this man and me, dressed alike, were walking together to our fate. When Jason left my side I felt tears in my eyes, but they drifted away as I called up BRAVERY.
No words were exchanged as we rode the elevator, crossed Madison avenue on a little indoor bridge, waited in a dimmed room with the Price is Right playing. What do you say: “So, what surgery are you getting done today?” No, you don’t say anything, you just pretend to be invisible.
Wow. With Audrey having her surgery this week, some of this sounds very parallel to my life. Just from a different perspective. Hope you’re feeling well, and nose is healing.
I hope you’re feeling better Kage. This definitely doesn’t sound like a pleasant experience but hopefully you’ll find it all worth it once you’re feeling better.