Originally posted to Facebook on Thursday, October 22, 2009
Talk about a damn gong show! They decide I gotta be NPO so the doc can put in a few stitches. And as if that doesn't make enough sence, the stroke of midnight they come in here and hide every scrap of food and anything close to water (including a bottle of saline) like I'm some sort of criminal that can't be trusted. Then leave the damn light on glaring in my eyes. I rang the bell for them to come shut it off, but that never happened. Eventually I fell asleep with it on.
Then this morning at 6am an OR nurse, which apparently stands for Old Retard wakes me up. I transfer myself onto the stretcher and when she asks if I want my head up I say no, then she cranks it up anyway, hurting my back. Then hits every wall all the way to the OR. I'm sure she voted in every federal election this country's ever had. She looked like her bones were half dust!
Then they want to stick an IV in my arm. That's about where lost it. Why? We need to hook you up to some saline. Why? Well because we always do when someone goes in the OR. For Christ sakes, he's putting in maybe 7 or 8 stitches and you guys make out like it's major surgery. Last time I had anything debrided total time from when the doc decided to do it to when it was done was 30 minutes and he did it right in the room, here it's 2 weeks! We're not using any annestetic, I can't feel anything. She still insisted that I needed the IV, and I seriously doubt she even knew what saline is. Pretty sure here suggestion would be to bleed me with leeches. I finally told her let's see what the doctor says. She disappeared and returned a few minutes later and never said another word about it. But she still had to stick the damn leads on my chest to monitor my heart. Oi! They were never hooked up.
Meantime, some 12 year old kid next to me there to get his tonsils out pouting and crying over every little thing. They take his blood pressure and it's "Ow! Ow! Owie! Ow! Braahahoo!" Suck it up princess. Of course his old man sits there looking o so important with the same dopey look on his face as the kid.
Anyway, when I finally got in the room with people with brains that didn't have cave rot, the doc comes in, offers me a coffee, then asks for bailing twine and a stapler and goes to work.
Half hour later I was back in the room. Doc says I should be going home Monday.
Then this morning at 6am an OR nurse, which apparently stands for Old Retard wakes me up. I transfer myself onto the stretcher and when she asks if I want my head up I say no, then she cranks it up anyway, hurting my back. Then hits every wall all the way to the OR. I'm sure she voted in every federal election this country's ever had. She looked like her bones were half dust!
Then they want to stick an IV in my arm. That's about where lost it. Why? We need to hook you up to some saline. Why? Well because we always do when someone goes in the OR. For Christ sakes, he's putting in maybe 7 or 8 stitches and you guys make out like it's major surgery. Last time I had anything debrided total time from when the doc decided to do it to when it was done was 30 minutes and he did it right in the room, here it's 2 weeks! We're not using any annestetic, I can't feel anything. She still insisted that I needed the IV, and I seriously doubt she even knew what saline is. Pretty sure here suggestion would be to bleed me with leeches. I finally told her let's see what the doctor says. She disappeared and returned a few minutes later and never said another word about it. But she still had to stick the damn leads on my chest to monitor my heart. Oi! They were never hooked up.
Meantime, some 12 year old kid next to me there to get his tonsils out pouting and crying over every little thing. They take his blood pressure and it's "Ow! Ow! Owie! Ow! Braahahoo!" Suck it up princess. Of course his old man sits there looking o so important with the same dopey look on his face as the kid.
Anyway, when I finally got in the room with people with brains that didn't have cave rot, the doc comes in, offers me a coffee, then asks for bailing twine and a stapler and goes to work.
Half hour later I was back in the room. Doc says I should be going home Monday.
No comments:
Post a Comment