adulting: medical module
If being an adult was a game with bonus points- which, some might argue, it actually is- it always seemed to me that there should be some kind of bonus system for doing the boring adult stuff. Today's game play was mostly medical, and none of it fun. But all necessary, so do I get some candy?
First thing in the AM I was required to present myself in the nuclear medicine clinic at the hospital. The bone scans they do there are a two-part procedure: first, they inject a radioactive substance and take a few pics with a machine. Then you are sent off for a couple hours with instructions to drink lots and pee often: all the better to get that isotope moving round your system, and absorbed into your bones. And, dear readers, be proud of me for not boring the technician with the joke about acquiring superpowers. I'm sure he hears that a lot. I did, however, teach him a new skill: the easy way of helping a patient up from a lying down position, which is for each person to cup the other's elbow with one arm. Can you visualise that? It's really effective. He was delighted.
About the vein part. It was so, so much easier than the MRI experience. Turns out they have a vein whisperer on staff, and that gentle lady got a baby-sized needle into my wrist with a bare minimum of fuss. Whew.
Then I went to the hospital pharmacy to pick up the fancy blood thinner. The cashier smiled and said, "now, it's been a bit too long since you refilled this, but you can't talk so I'm not going to make you go see the pharmacist." This appears to be standard operating procedure and she was doing me a solid. What can I say (in theory if not in immediate practice)? Shit's EXPENSIVE. I resent that a month;s supply of these TINT TINY PILLS are over a hundred bucks, and that's in addition to the other three things I take every day, ffs.
For the rest of the waiting time, I chilled in a nearby favourite cafe, said a silent hello and had a coffee at another cafe (literally across the street from the first) whose owner had just returned from a six week walkabout. Bumped into a member of my former pool team on the way back to the hospital: annoyingly, the guy remembered Rob but not me. Huh.
The test was conducted by another tech, who bundled me into the gear that helps hold a person still and aligned for forty-five minutes. There's a thing like a quilted table-runner that's Velcro'd around one's elbows and upper arms, that keep your limbs from flopping over the side of the narrow table. And there's a stout rubber band slipped over one's shoes to lasso the feet together.
During the test, as the machine slid slowly over me close overhead, I could just see a monitor with a countdown and a gradually emerging, ghostly image of my entire skeleton. Say, what's that hot spot in the pelvis? Bladder, turns out. Is my spine a little extra hot? Perfectly normal, I was told. One thing I grudgingly admit: the soft tissue shadow, which is fascinating, was huge. I mean, yes, the drugs pack on weight but c'mon. Sigh.
After all this all I really wanted to do was go home for a decent nap. Instead I stopped at the family practice clinic, and my doctor is on vacation, but I was seen in short order by a cheerful nurse and then a young doctor. She checked my vitals and peered down my throat, and advised me to continue observing a monkish silence for at least another week.
"you can talk for five minutes at most, after a four hour break," she said. I'll have to ask people to be patient while I type things out on my phone. Like, a lot. This is my life now.
And full disclosure: heading out, I popped into a local pawnshop and treated myself to a comforting pair of silver earrings, which is exactly a page from Mae's playbook.
Then after ALL THAT, I finally went home for that nap. Later, I made one drawing while hate-watching the first part of the Bachelor finale- haven't watched it in years, and have no excuse for the flaming trainwreck that it is, other than a social study of the meeting point of fame whoredom and love as a commodified prize. Also there was nothing else on.
Tomorrow, Anniko is coming to collect me and we're going to have a coffee date and hit a Costco- good times!- I foresee the voice app being well used during the driving portions of our visit.
I have client commissions to catch up on, insurance papers to file, research to do, an apartment in desperate need of at least a half-assed pre-spring clean. It's almost enough work to distract me from noticing that it's been months and months since last I was properly hugged, and my skin is so hungry.
Ah, well. Spring is coming.
First thing in the AM I was required to present myself in the nuclear medicine clinic at the hospital. The bone scans they do there are a two-part procedure: first, they inject a radioactive substance and take a few pics with a machine. Then you are sent off for a couple hours with instructions to drink lots and pee often: all the better to get that isotope moving round your system, and absorbed into your bones. And, dear readers, be proud of me for not boring the technician with the joke about acquiring superpowers. I'm sure he hears that a lot. I did, however, teach him a new skill: the easy way of helping a patient up from a lying down position, which is for each person to cup the other's elbow with one arm. Can you visualise that? It's really effective. He was delighted.
About the vein part. It was so, so much easier than the MRI experience. Turns out they have a vein whisperer on staff, and that gentle lady got a baby-sized needle into my wrist with a bare minimum of fuss. Whew.
Then I went to the hospital pharmacy to pick up the fancy blood thinner. The cashier smiled and said, "now, it's been a bit too long since you refilled this, but you can't talk so I'm not going to make you go see the pharmacist." This appears to be standard operating procedure and she was doing me a solid. What can I say (in theory if not in immediate practice)? Shit's EXPENSIVE. I resent that a month;s supply of these TINT TINY PILLS are over a hundred bucks, and that's in addition to the other three things I take every day, ffs.
For the rest of the waiting time, I chilled in a nearby favourite cafe, said a silent hello and had a coffee at another cafe (literally across the street from the first) whose owner had just returned from a six week walkabout. Bumped into a member of my former pool team on the way back to the hospital: annoyingly, the guy remembered Rob but not me. Huh.
The test was conducted by another tech, who bundled me into the gear that helps hold a person still and aligned for forty-five minutes. There's a thing like a quilted table-runner that's Velcro'd around one's elbows and upper arms, that keep your limbs from flopping over the side of the narrow table. And there's a stout rubber band slipped over one's shoes to lasso the feet together.
During the test, as the machine slid slowly over me close overhead, I could just see a monitor with a countdown and a gradually emerging, ghostly image of my entire skeleton. Say, what's that hot spot in the pelvis? Bladder, turns out. Is my spine a little extra hot? Perfectly normal, I was told. One thing I grudgingly admit: the soft tissue shadow, which is fascinating, was huge. I mean, yes, the drugs pack on weight but c'mon. Sigh.
After all this all I really wanted to do was go home for a decent nap. Instead I stopped at the family practice clinic, and my doctor is on vacation, but I was seen in short order by a cheerful nurse and then a young doctor. She checked my vitals and peered down my throat, and advised me to continue observing a monkish silence for at least another week.
"you can talk for five minutes at most, after a four hour break," she said. I'll have to ask people to be patient while I type things out on my phone. Like, a lot. This is my life now.
And full disclosure: heading out, I popped into a local pawnshop and treated myself to a comforting pair of silver earrings, which is exactly a page from Mae's playbook.
Then after ALL THAT, I finally went home for that nap. Later, I made one drawing while hate-watching the first part of the Bachelor finale- haven't watched it in years, and have no excuse for the flaming trainwreck that it is, other than a social study of the meeting point of fame whoredom and love as a commodified prize. Also there was nothing else on.
Tomorrow, Anniko is coming to collect me and we're going to have a coffee date and hit a Costco- good times!- I foresee the voice app being well used during the driving portions of our visit.
I have client commissions to catch up on, insurance papers to file, research to do, an apartment in desperate need of at least a half-assed pre-spring clean. It's almost enough work to distract me from noticing that it's been months and months since last I was properly hugged, and my skin is so hungry.
Ah, well. Spring is coming.