OK, I have spent my entire week at medical facilities. I have a port for blood draws, and it stopped working. Yesterday, I was sent home, all wired up, with an early morning appointment to unblock the damn thing. Nada.
The oncology center sent me to the hospital to get a fluroscopy scan to figure out why it wouldn't work. Simple, right? I am lying on the hard platform, and the Radiologist says, "Oh, I see! I can fix this! Simple!" I spend the next two hours lying still so he can thread a catheter from my "groin area" (had to shave it) up to my port, which is near my neck. Great. It works. Port is unblocked.
After an hour of being still in recovery, I get up to put on my clothes. Panties first. I feel a sensation oddly familiar from my youth. Blood everywhere, soaking my panties, all over the floor, soaking the gurney. Shit! The vein was leaking down by the entry site. My hoo-hah is covered with blood. Half an hour of applied pressure by the surgeon (young and gorgeous), followed by two hours of laying still. No TV. Nice nurse.
OK, now it is time to go home. I wore a dress. Now I am commando, and it's windy outside.
I called DH and he managed to find me some clean underwear. I think the sight of my butt in the wind might have given some old man a heart attack.
Please, dear Lord. Pick on somebody else for a while?
Thanks for listening.
