PostponementPosted: May 3, 2016
This morning I went to the hospital for my preop appointment.
Ian dropped me off at the door because there was no telling how far he’d have to park; I was registered and waiting at the urology clinic by the time he made it inside–nearly forty minutes later. Parking was bad today.
I was called back and the nurse took my vitals before the PA took us to a room to go over the surgical consent. When I told him how my pain has increased over the past week, he told me that if it gets too bad to come in and they’ll do some imaging to make sure my stent hasn’t migrated, but for now, here’s some pain pills and Flomax, try to stick it out.
And by the way, sorry, your surgery isn’t until the 24th.
He was honestly apologetic, but he isn’t the one stuck with a painful stent for an extra five days. But I’ll make it through.
Consent signed, I went downstairs for my chest X-ray. Of course I had to pee while waiting, but the restroom had no toilet paper–no paper. Not a seat cover or a paper towel, nothing. Ian got me some from the men’s, so it turned out okay. And I had to explain to the tech that PCOS is not a type of birth control implant.
Then it was back upstairs for an EKG (quickest one I’ve ever had) and bloodwork (good stick, yay).
Then all my acres of medical history and instructions with the preop nurse. Yet another medical professional who hadn’t heard of PCOS. I didn’t bother explaining that it doesn’t automatically mean ovarian cysts when she asked if I had cysts on one or both ovaries. Sigh.
So nothing to eat or drink after midnight, no nail polish on fingers or toes, and no jewelry. I’ll feel so naked.
But the prescriptions I got today are helping the pain and spasms, so that’s really good.
Three weeks til surgery.
Oh, and everybody loved my lipstick. I wore Masochist from Jeffree Star.