The Day After, Number 1

The weirdness continues. . . .

Yesterday B and I spent the day in the IRU at St. Vincent’s. I was scheduled for a 9 a.m. check-in for an 11 a.m. procedure. We arrived on time, were escorted to the designated area (Room 6 in Pollock IRU), where I was shown the gown and socks that would be my attire for the rest of the day.

Waiting around in any medical facility is just, well, boring. Daytime television only makes it worse. I decided that I’d take a nap. B brought a book and his tablet, so he was reasonably well entertained. The 11 o’clock procedure turned into a 1 p.m. procedure, which was then delayed to 2:30 by an emergency that came in and took precedence over my “routine procedure”.

Around 2 p.m., after sleeping as much as I could, I was wide awake and bored. B entertained both of us with Youtube videos of street performers. (That was cool! and others)

Finally, my turn came. Two big, muscle-y guys came in and wheeled me out to the OR. The operating room team clearly works together quite a lot – they were joking with each other, flicking each other crap (in a most loving way), but were very attentive to business and making sure everything got done and all the steps were attended to. I felt well cared-for, even while I was smiling at their jokes.

Duly painted with the antiseptic wash (giving my skin a peculiar algae green hue that is being pretty doggone tough to wash off), I sank into a warm, cozy sleep while Dr. B performed his task of installing an IV port in my chest.

Later, back in the room, we did watch a little news on the tv while waiting for a meal for me and discharge instructions. How weird to see what the world’s been up to while we were cloistered: sea lions hanging out at the Port of Astoria by the hundreds, riots, mayhem, political intrigue – the same old stuff, I guess. The world kept going while we were away.


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