Surgery--Again

So glad that things seem to be going better for you now - it will be good to have your dental and optical problems sorted out at long last. They've been going on for far too long.

Sounds as if you are doing all the right things to lower your blood pressure too - good luck, hope you manage to get it down to a really satisfactory level soon.

bump

How ya doing, Roberta? Wore my track suit to the pool this morning and thought of you.

Back from Bellevue. Left the house at 7:30 a.m. Just got home--4:57 p.m.

I'm ok.

Can't talk yet. I'll be back.

Thud.

7:30 a.m.? egads, right there.

Glad you posted, was going to call you this weekend if you hadn't been heard from.

Hope the blood pressure is back in your normal range, as well as your breathing.

Looking forward to hearing more.

My BP is close to normal. Long story.

The Longest Day

Chapter 1

I arrived at Bellevue at 7:55. Appointment was for 8. I was lingering outside the hospital. A young man and I started talking. Serious stuff. He said he hated me. He said he loved me. He said I musta been something when I was younger. Hey, junior. I'm still something. Just saggier.

I gotta go into the hospital. He shakes my hand and leaves. I'm hobbling to the entrance. Someone taps me on the shoulder. It's him. He couldn't leave without giving me a hug. We hug.

I feel good. Then I turn into me. As I'm walking to the elevator, I'm thinking, "What if he's got some horrible contagious disease? What if he's got cooties?" I tell myself to shut the **** up. I listen to me (doesn't happen often) and feel good again. That "good" was gonna have to last a long time.

That great charisma strikes again, leaving admirers in the wake.

This looks to be a worthy kvetch. I'll get some popcorn and eagerly await the next chapters.

Chapter 2 interests me.

Chapter 2

I get to the second floor. 2A is for walk-ins. 2B and 2D are for people with appointments. 2C is for registering. You have to register. I get on the line at 2C. A mere 40 minutes later it's my turn.

I explain that I don't have an appointment slip. My appointment was made in the ER. The registration lady tells me that there's no appointment in the system and that she can't register me without an appointment slip. Where do I get the slip? 2D.

I get on line at 2D. My turn. I explain. The check in lady (Lorraine) likes me. No appointment in the system. She registers me herself. Thanks, Lorraine. Then I sit and wait.

Across from me is a man with long, manicured fingernails. They've got a pinkish pearly polish. I figure he's a drag queen. NBD. He's having breakfast. He throws his trash on the floor. I give him dirty looks. He throws more trash on the floor. I'm obsessing over the manicured slob. Then my name is called.

And ... Chapter 3?

Robbie, we worry and are growing warts.

We are hanging here!

Chapter 3

I follow the person into the examination room. She's not a doctor. She's a nurse practioner, I think. I explain the entire situation with the ER, the BP, my having stopped taking an asthma med, my breathing, and a new problem--oral thrush. She's not really listening. She takes my BP. It's normal.

I brought in my new BP machine. The ER doc told me to. I whip it out and explain that my machine registers high. Shall we compare. She tells me that I shouldn't be using anything but a Bellevue machine. I don't have one. Why not? I don't know how to answer this.

I again mention the breathing and the thrush. She can't help me. I have to see a doctor. It had been my intention all along to see a doctor, and I thought I was going to see one. Nope.

She tells me to follow her. Where is she taking me? To the walk-in clinic. There are about 50 people waiting. I tell her not to bother. She registers me anyway. She tells me that all those people aren't really waiting. It won't be too long. She disappears.

It's now about 10:30. Two and a half hours so far.

Should I wait or should I leave?

I wait.

Jimminy crickets and criminy and santa help us all.

Waiting for what's next.

Chapter 4

Why am I so determined? I want an asthma prescription I can take so that I can breathe without making my BP go up. I used to take one. I switched when I couldn't afford it.

So I wait. And I wait.

I notice that some people leave after a while. They may have been waiting for a specified time after a test. Sometimes when someone is called, two or three people go in. Not everyone is waiting. Am I encouraged. Am I ever encouraged? Well, maybe a little.

At noon one of the techs comes out from behind the desk and announces to the crowd that the following people should leave, eat, and come back at one. A lunch break. I've been coming to this hospital for ten years. First lunch break I've encountered. The tech tells us that the names are in the order they'll be seen after the break. My name is somewhere like eighth or ninth. I know I don't have to come back at one.

I head for the lobby. There's an Au Bon Pain. I check out the food. Can't chew most of it. I get soup--broccoli and cheese. I hobble to the only seat I see. The man seated at the table bears a striking resemblance to the Dalai Lama. An alarming resemblance. I smile. He smiles. I sit and start eating my soup. Then a woman comes to the table. She and Mr. Lama start conversing in a language that could be Chinese. The Lamas leave.

I finish my soup. I go outside for air. I head back upstairs. It's one p.m. Five hours and counting. It looks like I'm headed for a new Bellevue wait record.

At least you got soup and a Dalai Lama!!!!!

Singing, "Well Hello, Dalai!"

Chapter 5

At 2 p.m. (six hours of waiting--a new record) I go to the woman behind the desk. I tell her that because of a series of unfortunate circumstances and mixups, I've been waiting since 8 a.m. I tell her I'm fading fast. I put my head down. She tells me not to fade. I say I'm not in control of fading. She tells me to hang in. She tells me that if I'm not called in 30 minutes, she'll go in the back and try to get me some help. I say OK.

Twenty-five minutes later my name is called.

I follow the person who called my name. She seems nice enough but doesn't seem doctory to me. I ask if she's a doctor. She says no. She's a PA (physician's assistant?). I have a fit in the hall. I start yelling that I want to see a doctor. She tells me that if I want to see a doctor, I'll have to go back outside and wait some more. I ask if she can do prescriptions. She says yes. I apologize profusely.

We settle in. I explain the whole situation. BP, ER, asthma, thrush. She tells me she can't deal with everything. I tell her that the BP and the asthma are the same thing. She relents. She checks my breathing. No major rattles. She checks my tongue. Did I eat anything recently? Soup. Looks like thrush. (NFK) We agree that she will give me the prescription for the asthma med I want. She warns me that it might not be covered on my plan. I figure it has to be. She gives me a chart to fill out for my BP. Daily readings--date, time, BP, and heart rate. (I lost the paper. Made up my own.)

Then she tells me she has to check with the resident. This is the way it works. They always have to check with the resident. A long wait. I guess the residents are busy. She returns with the resident who is extreeeeemely pregnant. The resident and I discuss the asthma situation. She agrees about the scrip. Then she wants to check the thrush. She looks in my mouth and tells me I MUST see a dentist. (NFK) I explain the whole dental situation. She asks me whether I ate. Soup, says I. She asks the PA whether she tried scraping the white patches on my tongue. The PA says yes, but the resident decides to scrape them herself. I open. She tells me I MUST see a dentist. (Deja vu.) This happens a third time. (Deja vuvu) The resident leaves. I get my three scrips (asthma, thrush, and I was out of my cholesterol scrip).

I leave the hospital.

I hail a cab. I think that the nightmare is over.

Hah.