(no subject)
Was I the only one who put off doing the taxes until the last minute? Apparently not, from the lines ahead of me, but I found a post office open. *sigh* I had good intentions. Really. Yes, I put it off until Monday, but I planned to get it out that afternoon. Unfortunately, I spent the entire day in the hospital.
I was scheduled for a pancreas biopsy, so I presented myself promptly at 7:00. Drank two glasses of contrast (actually tasted pleasant), talked over the risks with a tech, settled down for an hour with Food Network, and then they shipped me over for the CAT scan. And then my body doesn't work the way they think it would. After lying and waiting in the freezing procedure room for an hour, they figured out the contrast hadn't worked through my system yet. Didn't I tell them that already? Three times.
They shipped me back to my room and they rescheduled me. Three hours later, they fit me in. They still couldn't see a space to go in to get to the pancreas. Rotate, hold-your-breath, bleep. Rinse and repeat for an hour. They finally decided they'd go through my side, and gave me the happy juice.
Whoa. Huh? Whee!
One successful procedure and two bandages later, I went back and watched Rachel Ray, but no Alton Brown. Damn. Gunthar picked me up around 5:30 and when we got home, I hit the tax return. See, in Mankato, I could walk one block to the post office, which was always open to midnight on tax day. Not so much in Eagan. We were sent on a goose chase. The post office sent us to Byerly's which sent us to the airport which, at least, gives us the toll-free number to find the open-late one in downtown St. Paul. It's done, but sucky, and quite expensive. Blech.
I really dislike my pancreas right now. Blood sugar fluctuations are exhausting.
I was scheduled for a pancreas biopsy, so I presented myself promptly at 7:00. Drank two glasses of contrast (actually tasted pleasant), talked over the risks with a tech, settled down for an hour with Food Network, and then they shipped me over for the CAT scan. And then my body doesn't work the way they think it would. After lying and waiting in the freezing procedure room for an hour, they figured out the contrast hadn't worked through my system yet. Didn't I tell them that already? Three times.
They shipped me back to my room and they rescheduled me. Three hours later, they fit me in. They still couldn't see a space to go in to get to the pancreas. Rotate, hold-your-breath, bleep. Rinse and repeat for an hour. They finally decided they'd go through my side, and gave me the happy juice.
Whoa. Huh? Whee!
One successful procedure and two bandages later, I went back and watched Rachel Ray, but no Alton Brown. Damn. Gunthar picked me up around 5:30 and when we got home, I hit the tax return. See, in Mankato, I could walk one block to the post office, which was always open to midnight on tax day. Not so much in Eagan. We were sent on a goose chase. The post office sent us to Byerly's which sent us to the airport which, at least, gives us the toll-free number to find the open-late one in downtown St. Paul. It's done, but sucky, and quite expensive. Blech.
I really dislike my pancreas right now. Blood sugar fluctuations are exhausting.