Keeping up with tradition
Had a very long day at the hospital today.
My wife's surgery was today, as some may recall. It was scheduled at 1:30 but because her doc is an OBGYN, his expecting mothers trump the planned procedures. So her surgery was pushed back not one, not two, but three and a half hours! After two emergency C-sections the doctor was ready and at 5 PM she was finally wheeled down to the OR. She's fine. A little sore is all. The doctor confirmed there were fibroid masses plus he found several adhessions. They took all samples they needed for biopsy and should have the results Monday afternoon.
What does this have to do with tradition, you ask? Well, a bit of history first. About four years ago the wife had a gall bladder attack. We got her to the ER and they admitted her with surgery scheduled in the morning. I hadn't felt that great earlier in the day, in fact, I thought I might have a bladder infection. But my own discomfort took a back seat when the wife had her attack. That is, until later in the evening. After my wife had been admitted and was setled into her room, she had to be taken down to get some kind of test, so I stayed in her room to watch a bit of TV. I had noticed it was rather warm in the room and getting warmer as I was beginning to sweat. I decided a cool washcloth from the bathroom would help. As luck would have it, one of the housekeeping staff came in to check on the sheets or something. She took one look at me and asked, "Are you ok, sir?" I was in the process of standing up to get that washcloth, but promptly thumped back down into the chair with a grunt and my face pulled into a grimace of pain. She watched me for about two seconds and asked, "Do you want me to get someone?" I'm not sure if my response was coherent or not, but the woman only waited about two more seconds then said, "Stay there, I'm going to get someone." I couldn't tell you how long it was before she returned with two nurses. I must have looked pretty bad because one of the nurses said "Call ER and tell 'em I'm bringing him down." From here things are rather fuzzy. I vaguely remember pointing to the place where I was feeling the pain and an ER tech cursing my veins as they tried to place an IV. I remember throwing up a couple of times. And I *do* distinctly remember the sharp pain in the area of my right kidney and the surprised look on the poor ultrasound tech's face when I expressed exactly how I felt about said pain. Eventually they got somethng for pain into me and I was able to relax enough for the ER doc to tell me he was going to admit me for overnight observation and that based on the ultrasound, he suspected kidney stones. It turns out, my room was three doors down from my wife, and it was indeed my first kidney stones.
So how does that tie into today and what's the tradition? Well it would seem the tradition is that if my wife goes into the hospital for something, I will also be going into the hospital very soon. This time, thankfully, it wasn't at the same time. I have surgery sheduled for Tuesday July 31. But today I was able to get all of the pre-admission stuff done while waiting on her procedure. What am I having done? Onnly my fourth adenoidectomy! That's right, fourth! My doc says I might have a new world record. Heh.
Well that's enough for me for tonight folks. See y'all later.