A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to RT
Last year was my first RT experience, so this year I thought I knew exactly what to expect. Boy, was I wrong.
My problems started on Wednesday, the day before I was due to leave for Orlando. It was my daughter’s 9th birthday, so I made a last minute trip to Kohl’s in hopes of finding something the child would like to have for a present. As I was searching the clothing section, I felt a pain in my upper stomach. Within seconds, I broke out into a cold sweat and thought I might either vomit or faint. Since throwing up inside the Kohl’s bathroom isn’t my idea of a good time, I opted to retreat to my car. However, being the responsible mommy that I am, I insisted on buying the presents for my daughter first.
I somehow managed to walk to the check-out counter and tossed the clothing in front of the cashier. She, of course, proceeded to try her best to get me to sign up for a credit card. I told her ‘no thank you’ and gripped the counter for dear life. She then started in on their mailing list. I finally looked up and informed her I was doing my best not to faint in their store and could she please be a dear and ring up my damn items.
Once out of the store, I sat in my car with the air conditioning on full blast, feeling much like a woman going through menopause. With the cold sweat taken care of, I drove home. I crawled into bed and prayed the pain in my stomach would go away.
An hour later, I gave up and called my mommy for support. I asked if she would please come and take me to the emergency room. Super Mom was at my doorstep in a matter of minutes.
Upon arrival at the ER, I was immediately hooked up to an EKG machine. Evidently they look at a fat, middle-aged woman with stomach pains and automatically think heart attack. Whatever.
My heart was fine although my blood pressure had dropped to 82/62. They immediately got me to a room where I waited. Of course. After blood tests and sonograms, they decided I needed to have emergency gallbladder surgery. At 6:30 pm, they wheeled me into the operating room and removed the offending organ.
At 7:30, I woke in the recovery room and tried my best to convince them to release me. They insisted I go to a hospital room because evidently that’s what most people do. I wished I’d been a tad more vocal at this point.
Anyway, they got me to the room and the nurse came in to introduce herself. I asked her what kind of hoops I needed to jump through to be released that night. She seemed to think I’d had a bit too much morphine. She told me I had to drink and eat and manage to hold them down, as well as be able to walk around and go pee.
Okay, given my tasks for the nights I was already in Carol-mode. I asked her to bring me food and water. While she was gone, I went into the bathroom and did my thing. Once I finished the water, Jello and broth, I asked if I could leave. The nurse said I had to pee. I informed her that I already had. She said it didn’t count because she didn’t see me pee. I explained to her that I was a 43 year-old woman and I’m pretty sure I know what pee looks like, and I had indeed done it. She basically said, too bad, so sad, pee again, bitch, only this time do it in a little plastic hat thing. Geez!
I drank another glass of water and ate a bowl of cereal. I told Super Mom that I was going back into the bathroom, and I may need her to come in and squeeze me like a lemon. Well, surprise, surprise, I did it on my own. I was quite proud of the pee pee I made. LOL
After waiting for the nurse for another 30 minutes, I sent Super Mom after her. The nurse appeared extremely annoyed, but what the hell, right? She verified that I did indeed remember how to pee and said I could go home.
Whew, finally! I arrived home at 10:30 pm. I was a little wired, so I caught up on email and started some laundry. I woke early the next morning, got the girls off to school, did three more loads of laundry and packed my suitcase.
No way was I going to let a diseased organ three times its natural size keep me from budding around with my friends and publishers. I played the sympathy card at the airport, and they upgraded me to business class. Yea!
I made it to RT ready for a little less excitement.