The Scoop

THURSDAY, JULY 20

I checked into the hospital to have a hole made in my side through which the doctor would laser the remaining stone. I asked the nurse tending to me for those warm blankets they had -- the idea being to wrap up my arms and get my blood vessels dilated for labs and IV. The lab lady came to draw blood for an HCG (pregnancy) test, and not only did she get blood on the first stick, she got A LOT of blood. Hooray for warm blankies! The arms went back into their blankets to wait for another nurse to come put in the IV. Her first attempt was between the knuckles at the bases of my middle and ring fingers on my left hand. Even as she was actually getting in the IV, I was thinking, "This isn't going to last." Sure enough, when she started the fluids, the tiny vein instantly blew. She tried a second time in the middle of my right hand, and we had a winner! More hooray for warm blankies. After quite a wait, the anesthesiologist came in and asked her many questions. She decided she wanted a renal profile and a hemoglobin on me because of the metabolic acidosis I had back in April. The IV nurse called the lab to see if they had enough blood from the previous draw to do this new set of tests -- they did not.

So another nurse and lab tech came in for more blood. They got a tiny bit from my left wrist -- man, does THAT hurt with all those nerves there! The lab lady filled a tube for the hemoglobin while everyone brainstormed where to stick me next. I lamented about it being too bad they didn't have enough after the HCG.

Lab girl: You had an HCG? When? Today?

She called the lab and learned they didn't have enough to do BOTH ordered tests, but they had enough to run the renal profile. We were done drawing blood!

After the results were in on the new tests, I was off to the operating room. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in recovery, and I noticed two bad things right off the bat:

1. My breathing tube was still in.
2. I couldn't move anything.

OK, this was so not good. All I could do was blink my eyes and grunt -- not very loudly. Through my panic I registered that my side/back didn't hurt as much as I had been expecting them to. Not my main concern at that moment. I proceeded to grunt as much as I could, and my left arm helped out by moving a little bit. My body kept trying to go back to sleep, too.

Oh no. That was SOOOOO not going to happen.

The nurse noticed me struggling, and I think I heard something about my O2 being up. All I know for sure is that the tube came out shortly after that, and after all the mucus was suctioned out I managed to whisper, "I can't move." The nurse asked the anesthesiologist, and she said to give it a few more minutes -- I was still feeling the medicine.

Geez, lady, I thought. What the hell did you give me?

Slowly but surely, things began moving like they were supposed to -- everything except my bladder, that is. Just like last time, when I tried to pee, nothing happened. In went a Foley catheter. Hooray (she said sarcastically).

Everything I learned after that I remember hearing, but not in what order or how (stupid anesthesia). I learned that because of my scoliosis and the way I'm all scrunched on the left side, the doctor couldn't get to my kidney. Frickin' great.

Not to worry, I was told. He decided to try through the urethra again. In the month since the last procedure, the remaining stone had shifted enough that he could get it. He told my folks he felt much more confident that he'd gotten it this time. I was to stay in the hospital overnight and have a kidney x-ray the next morning.

Fine by me. After the panic of not being able to move, I didn't exactly feel like getting up too quickly and roaming around.

So I stayed the night, and I couldn't get to sleep until about 3:00 a.m. Then I was awakened at 4:00 for vitals. Bloody marvelous. Spent the next three hours dozing only to be awakened by the nurse checking my IV, the nurse putting a new bag of fluids on my IV, the CNA emptying my catheter bag, the CNA putting a new fluid intake/output sheet on the bulletin board, and the CNA giving me new ice and water. Can anyone tell me why those last two had to be done at 5:00 in the freaking morning? And can anyone explain to me why it is so difficult to close a door when leaving a room -- a door that was clearly CLOSED when one entered the room to begin with? I called no less than three times just to have my room's door closed so the hall lights weren't shining in my eyes.

Oh, and I started my period after the surgery, too. I had been hoping the stress would put that off until I was out of the hospital. No, insisted my body -- we simply MUST be on time and heavy. Hooray (she said sarcastically).

FRIDAY, JULY 21

Was again dozing when the x-ray guy came in. Got that taken care of, had some breakfast (bacon, which my still-sore throat didn't appreciate much, and cream-of-wheat, which my throat liked much better), and talked to my great-aunt Deenie who told me she wouldn't come up to see me that day afterall because she'd woken up with a 101 temperature. Later was a bed bath and call from my mom to see if the doc had been in yet. Then it was TV, TV, TV while waiting for the doc to come in. He finally appeared at 1:00, and that ultimately meant me staying in the hospital another night because there was no way for Mom to leave from Mac, get Moby, pick me up, and be to work by 2:00. All the doc said was that he wanted me to keep the catheter for ten days.

Me: TEN DAYS!?!? I only had to have it four the last time!

Doctor M: OK, OK. We'll take it out Monday.

::sigh of relief::

So that evening, I indulged in two episodes of CSI, one of Dirty Jobs, and one of Numb3rs. Part way through Dirty Jobs, I called Aunt Deenie again to tell her I was staying another night, and we chatted for a while. Then the Dockums (friends of the family) stopped by for a little visit. Throughout the evening, I grew steadily sorer and sorer, despite the "air mattress" I was given the night before which we discovered later wasn't doing the job it was supposed to. I kept having to shift every hour or so. By 10:30, I was in tears because I was hurting so much. My CNA, Michelle, and another, Corinna, were determined not to leave the room until they knew I was comfortable and could sleep. They found the softest pillows they could get their hands on and laid me on them, then found out I had orders for pain meds and asked the nurse to get me a shot of Diloted (a morphine derivative, according to Mom). I finally got some sleep, but it didn't last long.

SATURDAY, JULY 22

Soon it was time to weigh me (in the middle of the night, after not weighing me ALL DAMNED DAY), and the pain kicked up again. I couldn't get another shot because (I guess) it was too soon, and I knew Lortab wasn't going to work with this level of pain. I got as comfortable as I could and just decided to deal with it. After about 30-45 minutes, the pain had reduced some, so I decided to see if the Lortab could take care of the rest. The nurse gave me 10 mg, and I think the combination of that and what morphine was still in me did the trick. Next thing I knew, it was a quarter of eight and a CNA was yelling "MRS. A--------" as she brought in my breakfast tray. I jumped and started looking around for Mom. I ate more bacon and cream-of-wheat (I forgot to order something other than eggs) and waited for Mom to get there and the on-duty doc to come in so I could talk him into taking the catheter out. I just wasn't getting used to the thing like I did last time -- in fact, as more time passed, the thing hurt more and more. The doctor agreed to let me take it out and sent a kit home for Mom to reinsert if I started having trouble peeing again. So far, so good. Everything's working normally, and stones are passing. HOORAY!!

I was dismissed, and Mom and I headed to Lowe's to get closet shelving units and towel bars. I was still a bit woozy from all the drugs (oooh, pretty colors!), so that was interesting at times. I'd be OK, then I'd go all dreamy and lightheaded. Wee! Then it was off to Walmart for my meds, bath mats, and food.

Got home, and I was attacked by dogs. Apparently, I was missed. First was Achmed the speckled cocker spaniel who met me getting off the lift and vocalized just how happy he was to see me, then there were Reba kisses after I got in the house, followed by Rebel's rottweiler huggies (he lays his head and neck across my shins and pushes against me as hard as he can). Reba, naturally, wouldn't get more than two feet away from me all afternoon.

In the evening, we went to my cousin Josh's wedding reception. He and Kyla had decided to have a small wedding with only immediate family (parents, grandparents, siblings, and attendants) followed by a big reception. Hadley (Josh's six-year-old son) cracked me up, as he usually does because he always says something off the wall. His vest's back buckle had come unclipped, and he ran up to my uncle where he was talking with my dad and me and loudly announced, "Grandpa, my dress came undone!" My uncle refastened it, and Hadley ran off only to return five minutes later with, "Grandpa, my dress came undone AGAIN!" ::shakes head:: The child's not normal.

The reception was fun. Most of the time my folks and I were there, I hung out with my cousin Sarah -- she and my aunt and uncle were up from Texas. I also got a present from my cousin Jenny. Last month, Jenny got to go on a student ambassador trip to Europe. Last night, she gave me a CD of all the pictures she took on the trip, and she gave me a T-shirt she bought for me in Germany. The previous was a promise that each student made when they were fund-raising for their trip -- if you donate X amount to my trip, I'll make you a picture CD. The latter was because she just wanted to bring me back something from her trip.

Places she visited that I can recognize from landmarks -- Germany (housing architecture), France (Normandy beach and cemetary, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame cathedral, Arc de Triumph, the Louvre), Holland (the windmills, Anne Frank's house), and England (Big Ben, Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Stonehenge).

I'm so jealous. She got to see Stonehenge. And she apparently liked it, because she took a TON of pictures there.



I've scanned through the photo CD today, and I can't help but think, "That's my girl." The majority of her photos are of scenery, architecture, and art -- EXACTLY the kinds of photos I'd have taken had I gone on a trip like that.

But, I digress. The dance started, and Josh and Kyla had their dance. Then they called the kids (Josh's from his first marriage) up for the second dance, and Josh danced with Jenika and Kyla danced with Hadley. Too cute. During the dollar dance, Sarah and I considered writing "I owe you" on napkins and going up for our dances with Josh, but we decided the joke wasn't really worth fighting through the crowds to get to the dance floor. My folks and I left around nine (after we got to see folks dance to the obligatory "Cotton-eyed Joe" and "YMCA") and I went straight to bed.

SUNDAY, JULY 23

I slept until 10:00 when Mom MADE me get up. How rude! Chrys, Bo, and Sarah came over around noon and we exchanged Christmas presents that neither Chrys nor I had ever gotten around to mailing. Chrys knitted me some leg warmers (she knows I get cold legs in the Winter) and bought me a new copy of Half-Blood Prince. She loved the square garnet ring I got her for Christmas, but the cast iron flying pig I had gotten her for her birthday was a smash (her catch phrase is "When pigs fly out of my derriere").

I think that pretty much covers everything. I'm still really sleepy, so I think rather than trying to focus on my diss, I'll just read some more LKH. Later, kids.

Oh! I forgot to mention that I had an email from Teresa (UNO bio secretary) on Thursday saying Mike and Danielle had a girl. I knew it! I KNEW it would be a girl! Don't know anything other than that, but I'll let you know all new and pertinent info as I am told.