Patient! Heal Thyself!

I am back home. To make a long story short: I went to Kennestone-Wellstar Hospital to have a catherization. On a recent nuclear stress test they found that I may be having a problem with the same artery in my heart as I did the last time and they put a medicated stent into to hold the thing opened. It appeared in the nuclear stress test x-rays that the artery had collapsed again. By going in, catherization style the doctor could poke around and look closely with his little camera more directly what the problem was.

Well, believe it or not, my heart gave itself its own heart-bypass. The artery did closed up where the stent is. However, just before the closed area 3 or 4 little fingers of arteries created themselves and stretched over to wherever the blood flow was suppose to be. It is as good of a bypass one can get.

The doctor had a dry wit, he said, “It was nice doing business with you.”

When I went on a tour of Mudd Island on the Mississippi River I was told that Old Man River is always making bypasses, in a natural way, and it happened to me too! Wow!

Okay, now to make a long story long:

Monday Anna and I went to the pre-ops at the doctor’s office and also the hospital. We were there before 7:30. We signed in and had a seat in the waiting room. The same lady that was working behind the counter seeing people signed in and had their insurance forms in order was the same lady that was meeting the elevator when the doors opened. She had double duty…. If behind the counter if she heard the “ding” of the elevator she rushed out in the foyer to greet the people stepping out and ready to give them directions.

“Is that her?” Anna asked. She read my blog.

I said, “No, it was a little early for her – she runs late.”

Then a young yuppie-jock like man came in and relieved the counter girl. He wasn’t her either. But, he did a better job… not once did he dance like Dorothy in Wizard of Oz or play like he was a landing airplane.

A few minutes after 8:00 she came rushing in, in a scattered brain way, and I told Anna, “That’s her”.

While sitting in the waiting room an old man came in and signed in. The lady at the counter repeated the name “Beverly Jones?” The old man had a hearing aid in still didn’t hear well.

I forgot what he said, but when the elevator guy gave him directions he said something in the way of meaning he didn’t understand him, but in a such a way that I thought was funny and typical of someone not hearing well.

The lady behind the counter continued talking, “Tell your wife she has a balance of blablabla.” He said something again, to prove he couldn’t hear well.

The lady said, “It says right here your wife Beverly Jones owes a balance of….”

The old man said, “I’m Beverly Jones”. Hah! Beverly for a man, just like a Boy Named Sue. I bet he had to say that sentence a lot through his life…sometimes with gritted teeth.

His daughter came in within a couple of minutes and straightened out the outstanding amount… she had her statements out and had proof check number by check number she paid – it was them in error. Keep good records. It won’t come back and haunt you like bad records do.

A lady eventually came and got us and made sure we had everything in order and gave us my “orders” to go to the hospital for a pre-op.

The Hospital is so big and complex now we didn’t even change parking places or see the outside sun. We walked over to the hospital through a suspended above the street passageway.

We went into the registration office as directed and there was a long counter stations with chairs in front. An elderly volunteer quickly showed us where to sit and pulled out chairs for both us. He did his job well.

The lady that waited on us made sure we had the right paperwork and insurance forms and took down all the information then sent us to the lab for blood work. There as the nurse took blood she and I somehow had a conversation of bad things that we love that we know are good for us but eat them anyway, like the taste outweighs the dangers. I talked about ribs and barbecue. She loved cheese melted on everything and real bacon to complement everything…. We were talking true love. A quiet Mexican sat there and didn’t say a word…. Just give him cash, cold cash, over ribs, or bacon anytime.

After that we went shopping and went to see the movie SPIDERMAN III. It was good… as someone said it is more of a chick-flick than his other’s has been…. Also, as someone said, the special effects are tremendous…. It was all enjoyable…. And it was easy to remember it wasn’t real.

The next day I was to report at the hospital at 11:00. And my procedure was to be at 1:00. Anna let me out at the door and she went looking for a parking place. I was going to take a special elevator up to a certain tower. The problem was I was going to have to walk by the same elderly trying to please volunteer that slid my chair out for me the day before. I didn’t want to tell him where I was going, afraid he would rush down the hall in front of me to press the elevator button. He was sitting in a chair ready to spring up and ask me and then, I quickly ducked into the gift shop and looked for a post card, which they didn’t have. Then, looking out the door when the volunteer sprung up to help someone else to the counter and offering them a chair I sprung out and went down to the elevator.

When I go up to the tower – I think they called it the Purple Tower – Adam was already there. Anna would show up soon as well as Rocky and my two sisters.

I was put in a little room. The nurse was extremely nice and efficient. She would let family members come back only two at a time. Which all up to the time of I was to go to the operating area, I had my immediate kin near by…. two at a time.

Once while the nurse, a black lady, was putting in IVs and all she was telling me she spent eight years in the Air Force. I said, “You were an officer weren’t you?”

Proudly she nodded and said, “I sure was.”

As we talked she told me she has been married two years. Any children? No. I said we waited about seven years before we had kids. She said, they didn’t want to have children.

I thought should I jump in meddle? Nope, that is their decision based on what they want, so I will keep my mouth shut. Which, I think she appreciated. We had a nice rapport.

An older lady came in and helped with the prepping. She told me she was going have to shave cut my hair “down there”…. She repeated herself, saying “down there”. Then she cut “down there” commenting on hair much hair I had. Well, what could I say to that? Ah, I know: “Can you glue a some of that to the top of my head?”
She cackled. Mission accomplished.

Then, they came and got me to take me into the operating area. They wheeled me by the waiting room and all my kin walked along with us down a long corridor and crossed over to the Green Tower…. I was just glad we didn’t go into the Dark Tower.

I was put in another holding area. It was in a colder room. I laid there and watched nurses come and go down the hall. Eventually it seemed they all wandered into one room and came out with a slice of cake and coffee. I would have love to have either one. In the other room had to change into nothing but a gown. I wonder if they would have noticed if I casually walked in the room with the goodies with my ass peeking out through the slit in the back, and help myself to the coffee and cake? I doubt if I would have fit in.

One nurse came in and lifted my gown and said I wasn’t shaved close enough. With a disposable plastic razor she even got closer. I’m sure “down there” has less stubble than a peach now. How many more female nurses were going to look “down there?”

Another nurse, stood out from the rest because she had a solid pink top on.. a pink sweater or something. She was hyper and full of energy. She sung show tunes, she danced as she went up and down the hall. She was slim and wore big glasses that seemed to complement her look. Sometimes she would sway her hips in wide motions as she sung her own songs. I enjoyed watching her, she had life.

Then the nurse in the pink top came and told me it was time to go.

Two. I asked myself above how many more nurses were going to look at my privates. Two. The dancing singing girl in pink and another girl. They each took a side and prep me some more and installed the catherization thing. The girl in pink asked me did I like her singing and didn’t I think she sung like blablabla (I didn’t catch the name). I told her I liked her singing and her dancing.

Everybody on the hospital staff we dealt with were very efficient and polite.

After it was over with and I was discharged a rather talkative black lady, a nurses aid, helped me in a wheelchair to wheel me to the door, where Anna would pick me, she was sent a head. While she was helping me on the TV was CNN news reporting 3 Americans missing and some more killed. She shook her head and said that was a mess over there... "really a big mess."

I said, "You can say what you want, but I think none of this would have happened, and we would be just as safe if Bush hadn't sent us over there looking for Weapons of Mass Destruction that were not there."

She said, "Thank you! That's what I'm talking about!"

I told you the rest, which was the bottom line in the first paragraph, which was just about the top line which is not the bottom line… I’m confused.