Sunday, May 06, 2007

K loves California, and California loves K

This is just medical shit. Seriously. I went out this weekend ISH but I'm not writing about that one yet. Give me some time or painkillers I can actually take or something. I'll write about it, I just want to get this bullshit out before I forget and my frustration is forgotten.

My PreOp went as well as one could expect a PreOp to go I guess. Old Boy I talked to (I guess he's the PA for the two orthopedic docs and he does all the PreOp briefings) didn't really have many answers for me. Not even how long my surgery would take. Apparently everything really depends on what DoctorLady finds when she goes into my knee. Example: k-"So, how long will my surgery take?" OldBoy-"Well, it could be about an hour, but depending on what DoctorLady finds, it could be longer or shorter." Ok. k-"Any clue how long she'll recommend I be away from work? Just so I can give my work a heads up and maybe start my paperwork?" OldBoy-"It really depends on what she finds. Some people are back at work then next week, some people are away for a few weeks." WTF... Aright.

Trying to get any sort of definite answers, or anything taken care of ahead of time seemed to be met with a general sense of "Don't fuck up the rotation." So I don't know what they'll be doing to me, what kind of anesthesia I'll be getting (he said sort of a combo of local and general but he wasn't really sure), what kind of prescription I'll be needing (but I'm going to have to get it after my surgery now, thanks Mr Asshat), if I'll be on crutches or shoved into a chair or still rockin that pimp ass cane, I don't even know when my surgery is yet. The whole PreOp process seemed to be broken to me. Then I had to go to some other offices, where they all said I needed blood work, and I told them I already had it, and it was in my file at OldBoy/DoctorLady's office. Then I had to go get a fun fun EKG.

If you've never been to a cardiology office, let me give you the lowdown right now. There will be many people old enough to be your grandparents. They will all know each other. Most of them have the same doctor. Most of them have had the same procedure. Approx half of them will rock a cane. They will all get into the office before you, whereupon a new batch of them will arrive in the waiting room. They will also all know each other. They will compare surgeries. They will know all the people coming out of the doc's office on their way to Sweet Sweet Freedom. After almost an hour of waiting in a room with all these wonderful people, you will finally get called into The Back by someone who mispronounces your name. If they by some miracle manage get your name right, you're probably in the wrong office's waiting room and they're calling someone else. So you go back to some little room and some "nurse" hooks you up to a machine, all the while babbling and trying to molester you because she can't figure out how to attach the little sticky things to your chest and make the chords stay attached. She said my chest was too big, but then admitted to being a children's nurse just filling in for the short-staffed Cardiology office. I've never gotten that particular complaint, thankyouverymuch. Whatever. WhoreFace.

OldBoy said all my blood work came back fine, but that arthritis can be a sneaky little bastard where those blood tests are concerned. It can show for (he didn't actually give me a real time frame, because that would have been something helpful for him to say) but he said for several tests it can show as not being present or whatever, and then all the sudden it'll show *Poof* You've got arthritis! When in reality it was there the whole time. And he also wants me to get my Thyroid checked out, cuz that can cause some joint pain too. Aright. Whatever. I'll do any tests they want. I don't care anymore. They've broken me, I'll admit it.

God. It's tomorrow. I've only got one more day. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Really? A nice gayboy in a kilt this weekend told me I should get checked for Sjogren's Syndrome. Yeah, say that 5 times fast. There are so many damn things out there, how are more people not hypochondriacs?

1 comment:

Kay said...

Thank you very much.