Ended up at Convienent Care with only ten minutes to spare before closing. Weird leg rashes before traveling for a week don't make for a sound mind. But all is good!
Showing posts with label Doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doctor. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Three Things.
1) I had to transfer my own blood vials today. Blood is creepy.
2) I learned my mom's cat is on anti-depressants. Go figure.
3) I am watching Jersey Shore over the Election coverage. Just tell me in the morning.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Few things to touch on.
Ok, so who had the best Thanksgiving? Or at least who had the best food? Between trying to make sure my thousand dishes didn't suck, my parents leaving the country the next day, and me having to work most of the holiday, I'm going to assume that most of you win over me. Not to say mine wasn't perfectly fine, just not overly fantastic. I do enjoy pecan pie though, and even though I force myself to stick to one slice, yum!! I'll post some more later though, with pictures!
My brilliant brother tore both his ACL and lateral meniscus in a football game last week. We found out this morning that he has surgery tomorrow. My parents made it to Germany just fine, but of course my mom is less than thrilled learning about the surgery. I'm hoping it doesn't affect their trip. Few things could affect a birthday romp across Deutschland visiting Christmas markets. But of all things, this could. Luckily this first surgery is an outpatient one. They are only fixing the meniscus first, and then going back in for ACL in a month or so. Poor kid. He's so physical that it's going to be rough, we'll have to keep a good eye on him though. He is one to try to work out when sick and injured, and this is definitely NOT the time to pull that.
Being a Nordyke, I am well versed in this injured field of reference. When we moved back to Iowa, my first few months were playing nurse/babysitter/chauffer to my mother who had just gotten done shattering her leg in Africa and was basically out of commission for half a year. Plus, with my own ankle injuries all growing up, if anyone is ready to take on the task this week, its me! And Tim, not to exclude him. He is totally helping out a lot. Its majorly helpful that his current job has the hours that it does so he can take over for me when I should be at the office for at least a little while.
As a side note, its the last week of this Next Level Extreme Fitness session. And what do I do yesterday morning? I SLICE my finger on a brand new Ninja blender blade. Massive tears. Half pain, half because i thought I would be out of kickboxing for the last week. I mummied out my finger this morning with plenty of gauze, and other than a few twinges, I was good to go! No outpour of blood like yesterday morning. Which is good, cause that was NO GOOD!
My brilliant brother tore both his ACL and lateral meniscus in a football game last week. We found out this morning that he has surgery tomorrow. My parents made it to Germany just fine, but of course my mom is less than thrilled learning about the surgery. I'm hoping it doesn't affect their trip. Few things could affect a birthday romp across Deutschland visiting Christmas markets. But of all things, this could. Luckily this first surgery is an outpatient one. They are only fixing the meniscus first, and then going back in for ACL in a month or so. Poor kid. He's so physical that it's going to be rough, we'll have to keep a good eye on him though. He is one to try to work out when sick and injured, and this is definitely NOT the time to pull that.
Being a Nordyke, I am well versed in this injured field of reference. When we moved back to Iowa, my first few months were playing nurse/babysitter/chauffer to my mother who had just gotten done shattering her leg in Africa and was basically out of commission for half a year. Plus, with my own ankle injuries all growing up, if anyone is ready to take on the task this week, its me! And Tim, not to exclude him. He is totally helping out a lot. Its majorly helpful that his current job has the hours that it does so he can take over for me when I should be at the office for at least a little while.
As a side note, its the last week of this Next Level Extreme Fitness session. And what do I do yesterday morning? I SLICE my finger on a brand new Ninja blender blade. Massive tears. Half pain, half because i thought I would be out of kickboxing for the last week. I mummied out my finger this morning with plenty of gauze, and other than a few twinges, I was good to go! No outpour of blood like yesterday morning. Which is good, cause that was NO GOOD!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Plug me into the Matrix.
So before I make the trek across the Pond today, I figured a quick update on my back might be of interest to some people. I haven't really mentioned it before I don't think, but it has grown into quite the situation and we will be keeping our fingers crossed that it won't be even more of a situation while in Africa.
It started with a simple mole in between my shoulder blades that the the dermatologist didn't like the look of. No biggie. He did an in office little slice of it with a razor, along with a spot on my leg. Leg came back fine, the back one needing a little bit more to look at. More than he would do in the office, so enter Dr. Barnard, plastic surgeon (the most time efficient doctor on the planet, I have walked out of every single appt within ten minutes of the designated start time, plus he's just oozing with swagger charisma). We had a consult, and a week later the real time line started.
Thursday, June 2nd: Surgery #1. Despite being an outpatient procedure, making an incision in my back about 1.5" long and .75" tall, it still involves going to the big kid OR at the hospital. Goes well, much better than I thought it would. Doctor and nurses were rockin, took a little extra numbing, but I felt nothing and felt good coming out of it.
For the next 10 days, it didn't hurt much, but the itching was almost beyond tolerable. All the time, itch itch itch. Pretty normal.
Tuesday, 14th: I go in to have the stitches taken out like planned. He snips them out, but notices two points of infection in the suture holes, nothing crazy, prescribes an antibiotic, and that is that. Still itches a bit, but no more fear of pulling out stitches by rubbing it.
Wednesday, 15th: Tim was changing my bandage in the evening, and notices a hole in my back. Right where the incision was. About the size that you could stick a pencil eraser into it, only when you see a hole AT ALL in your own flesh, it's a huge freak out moment. We called Barnard immediately in the morning. And he basically said that's pretty expected with the infection, gave me an extended antibiotic to last throw my entire trip to Africa (an ENTIRE other bag of worms, open wound with third world water....bad news), and said come in and he would check it after I returned. Sounds good to me.
Saturday, 18th: I hadn't been paying too good of attention to it, and for some reason I thought to have Tim take a closer look at the wound, and I am glad I did because we learned that basically the entire 1.5" incision had ripped right open. There was a hole close to the size of a half dollar between my shoulders. And this isn't like a layer of skin or two deep, this is a good deep crater. Melt down at my parents house. Determined not to go to the ER, called Barnard immediately Monday morning for an appointment, mere days away from Kenya, thinking up all the different ways to keep the wound completely covered so no baby droplet of water hits it, but is still able to heal. Not exactly an ideal worry to think about for a mission trip.
Tuesday, 21st: Check in with Barnard, who immediately started manipulating the skin to figure out the best way to go back in and sew it back up. I guess I should mention in all of this that short of the initial surgery day after pain, and the itching (which could be painful at times, with the inability to itch), it hasn't hurt at all. None. And in figuring out how to sew it back, it still wasn't hurting. I mean, this HUGE hole was taking a manhandling with nothing. So I have that to be majorly thankful for.
Wednesday, 22nd: Surgery #2. Back to the same OR to have it all done again. I was NOT a happy camper to learn that he was going to be restitching it shut. For numerous reasons, but mainly the stitches themselves. The itch factor, the lack of comfort factor, and being freshly raw for a 24 hour travel adventure to Africa, and then 10 days with new stitches, and not just new stitches, but ones that have been redone, meaning they are that much tighter across the back, is less than awesome. No backpacks going through the airports, rubbing on the seats, I can't really stretch yet, then just being there. No yoga. No working out. Ugh. What he thought would matter, but doesn't (at least to me) is that he did THREE layers of stitches, and the first time he tried to kinda hide them in the skin, but this time, it was old school in and out over and under, and WIDE. So the scar is going to be less invisible. Whatever, Im not that vain.
Its a little under 24 hours later, and I am in a lot more pain than I was the first time around. Partly due to the stiches, partly due to the fact that the injection sites for the numbing were covered by adhesive, and if you saw my back right now, it has been a red railroad of reactions to adhesive. Its been 3 weeks pretty much solid in adhesive bandages. And is about to continue to be another two weeks. No breathing for this skin. Its an issue.
As a gross side note, not only did he just stitch it back up again, but he did something I didn't think possible. I had a hole in my back, the "wound." Well, he removed "the wound," how you remove a hole, I wouldn't know, but he pulled out a glob of skin that made it look like he took a melon baller to my back. I half thought my spine was exposed because of the blob of bloody flesh that he showed me. I nearly threw up in the OR. So maybe thats what hurts.
He's going to check it a few days after I get back, but then the stitches will be left in still another week (three total, as opposed to 12 days the first time). As he said, I am going to be "best friends" with these stitches by the end of it. Which short of the pain and itchees on the trip, I am ok with. I REALLY don't need to go through this again. I need my yoga practice ;-)
So any and all prayers accepted for this wound. It's going to be a challenge to keep it clean, but its non negotiable. It MUST stay clean. Infection is not an option. I can handle some itch and some pain, but its a handful right now, and any prayer for it to notch it down a few levels would be amazing.
That's my story! Sorry to gross you out if it did. Just be glad I didn't post the pictures. Because I do have some. No really super awesome shots, mostly all of them are slightly out of focus, but enough to NOT post on the internet to save people's upchuck reflex. :-)
It started with a simple mole in between my shoulder blades that the the dermatologist didn't like the look of. No biggie. He did an in office little slice of it with a razor, along with a spot on my leg. Leg came back fine, the back one needing a little bit more to look at. More than he would do in the office, so enter Dr. Barnard, plastic surgeon (the most time efficient doctor on the planet, I have walked out of every single appt within ten minutes of the designated start time, plus he's just oozing with swagger charisma). We had a consult, and a week later the real time line started.
Thursday, June 2nd: Surgery #1. Despite being an outpatient procedure, making an incision in my back about 1.5" long and .75" tall, it still involves going to the big kid OR at the hospital. Goes well, much better than I thought it would. Doctor and nurses were rockin, took a little extra numbing, but I felt nothing and felt good coming out of it.
For the next 10 days, it didn't hurt much, but the itching was almost beyond tolerable. All the time, itch itch itch. Pretty normal.
Tuesday, 14th: I go in to have the stitches taken out like planned. He snips them out, but notices two points of infection in the suture holes, nothing crazy, prescribes an antibiotic, and that is that. Still itches a bit, but no more fear of pulling out stitches by rubbing it.
Wednesday, 15th: Tim was changing my bandage in the evening, and notices a hole in my back. Right where the incision was. About the size that you could stick a pencil eraser into it, only when you see a hole AT ALL in your own flesh, it's a huge freak out moment. We called Barnard immediately in the morning. And he basically said that's pretty expected with the infection, gave me an extended antibiotic to last throw my entire trip to Africa (an ENTIRE other bag of worms, open wound with third world water....bad news), and said come in and he would check it after I returned. Sounds good to me.
Saturday, 18th: I hadn't been paying too good of attention to it, and for some reason I thought to have Tim take a closer look at the wound, and I am glad I did because we learned that basically the entire 1.5" incision had ripped right open. There was a hole close to the size of a half dollar between my shoulders. And this isn't like a layer of skin or two deep, this is a good deep crater. Melt down at my parents house. Determined not to go to the ER, called Barnard immediately Monday morning for an appointment, mere days away from Kenya, thinking up all the different ways to keep the wound completely covered so no baby droplet of water hits it, but is still able to heal. Not exactly an ideal worry to think about for a mission trip.
Tuesday, 21st: Check in with Barnard, who immediately started manipulating the skin to figure out the best way to go back in and sew it back up. I guess I should mention in all of this that short of the initial surgery day after pain, and the itching (which could be painful at times, with the inability to itch), it hasn't hurt at all. None. And in figuring out how to sew it back, it still wasn't hurting. I mean, this HUGE hole was taking a manhandling with nothing. So I have that to be majorly thankful for.
Wednesday, 22nd: Surgery #2. Back to the same OR to have it all done again. I was NOT a happy camper to learn that he was going to be restitching it shut. For numerous reasons, but mainly the stitches themselves. The itch factor, the lack of comfort factor, and being freshly raw for a 24 hour travel adventure to Africa, and then 10 days with new stitches, and not just new stitches, but ones that have been redone, meaning they are that much tighter across the back, is less than awesome. No backpacks going through the airports, rubbing on the seats, I can't really stretch yet, then just being there. No yoga. No working out. Ugh. What he thought would matter, but doesn't (at least to me) is that he did THREE layers of stitches, and the first time he tried to kinda hide them in the skin, but this time, it was old school in and out over and under, and WIDE. So the scar is going to be less invisible. Whatever, Im not that vain.
Its a little under 24 hours later, and I am in a lot more pain than I was the first time around. Partly due to the stiches, partly due to the fact that the injection sites for the numbing were covered by adhesive, and if you saw my back right now, it has been a red railroad of reactions to adhesive. Its been 3 weeks pretty much solid in adhesive bandages. And is about to continue to be another two weeks. No breathing for this skin. Its an issue.
As a gross side note, not only did he just stitch it back up again, but he did something I didn't think possible. I had a hole in my back, the "wound." Well, he removed "the wound," how you remove a hole, I wouldn't know, but he pulled out a glob of skin that made it look like he took a melon baller to my back. I half thought my spine was exposed because of the blob of bloody flesh that he showed me. I nearly threw up in the OR. So maybe thats what hurts.
He's going to check it a few days after I get back, but then the stitches will be left in still another week (three total, as opposed to 12 days the first time). As he said, I am going to be "best friends" with these stitches by the end of it. Which short of the pain and itchees on the trip, I am ok with. I REALLY don't need to go through this again. I need my yoga practice ;-)
So any and all prayers accepted for this wound. It's going to be a challenge to keep it clean, but its non negotiable. It MUST stay clean. Infection is not an option. I can handle some itch and some pain, but its a handful right now, and any prayer for it to notch it down a few levels would be amazing.
That's my story! Sorry to gross you out if it did. Just be glad I didn't post the pictures. Because I do have some. No really super awesome shots, mostly all of them are slightly out of focus, but enough to NOT post on the internet to save people's upchuck reflex. :-)
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
No Lightning Bolt Scar for Me!
It's been awhile since a real update, but I can't say anything extremely out of the ordinary AND exciting has happened recently. A few weeks ago Tim, Mom, and I went up to a day trip to Minneapolis to do a bit of shopping, but nothing crazy (unless you count the amount of things we got at Whole Foods, or the receipt I had from Lululemon....).
I've also had more than a few battles with the scale, which has led me to start the Skinny Girl brand of Restore and Cleanse, just thought I might feel a bit better. And it has, if by better you think I mean I feel like I want to choke all the while drinking the two packets a day. Although if I mix it with half a lemonade packet, hold my breath, chug a few swallows, then still hold my breath while I chase it with a regular packet juice, the exhale, I can handle it. Kinda. Ugh. Its gross people. Really really gross.
Along the lines of probably too much information, I have been exiled from the land of yoga for too long (a few days), hopefully ending tomorrow *fingers crossed*. This coming from the fact that I have about an inch and a half of wire sewn into my back that I don't want to be torn out by an overly aggressive downward dog. Ok, that sounds much more exciting than it is. I had a suspicious mole on my back, they sliced it off with a razor, felt that it was an even sneakier bugger than they thought and went back with what seemed like a machete and took quite a chunk out that required lots of stitching. And really, the only thing that is hindered by it is yoga. Ugh. Although yesterday and today, it has been itching like crazy. Its all I can do to not take a hairbrush to it. But I wouldn't exactly like to revisit the Covenant Surgical Center if I can help it. It was quite the experience though, the nurses came in for quite the party and I got lots of pre-warmed sheets. Not too bad if he didn't slice and dice me.
But I swear not all of my life is a physical mess! The beginning of summer is taking a chill pill (or a sweltering hot pill) in preparation for the insanity that is coming up. 10 days in Africa is looming quite soon. Not exactly the way I thought I would be feeling about it, but there isn't much to do about it unfortunately. I'll go and try not to punch too many white people in the face. That will be that. Then the day after I get back is our 4th of July party which Tim has taken charge of. So at least I'll have that to directly look forward to while in Kenya.
Then a family vacation to Colorado for a week, which will be absolutely SPLENDID. I havent been to Copper Mountain in five-ish years and I want to go now. Like, yesterday. It's going to be perfect. I can just tell now.
A wedding weekend in Fargo. Then a fantabulous wedding outside of Boston which we are turning into a week long trip involving an Incubus concert, a Cirque du Soleil show, Boston vs Yankees game, few days in Boston, capped off with the wedding and subsequent wedding bonfire.
And then athletic season starts.....the football and volleyball schedule is already out. Seems like summer is already almost over before it's begun!
I've also had more than a few battles with the scale, which has led me to start the Skinny Girl brand of Restore and Cleanse, just thought I might feel a bit better. And it has, if by better you think I mean I feel like I want to choke all the while drinking the two packets a day. Although if I mix it with half a lemonade packet, hold my breath, chug a few swallows, then still hold my breath while I chase it with a regular packet juice, the exhale, I can handle it. Kinda. Ugh. Its gross people. Really really gross.
Along the lines of probably too much information, I have been exiled from the land of yoga for too long (a few days), hopefully ending tomorrow *fingers crossed*. This coming from the fact that I have about an inch and a half of wire sewn into my back that I don't want to be torn out by an overly aggressive downward dog. Ok, that sounds much more exciting than it is. I had a suspicious mole on my back, they sliced it off with a razor, felt that it was an even sneakier bugger than they thought and went back with what seemed like a machete and took quite a chunk out that required lots of stitching. And really, the only thing that is hindered by it is yoga. Ugh. Although yesterday and today, it has been itching like crazy. Its all I can do to not take a hairbrush to it. But I wouldn't exactly like to revisit the Covenant Surgical Center if I can help it. It was quite the experience though, the nurses came in for quite the party and I got lots of pre-warmed sheets. Not too bad if he didn't slice and dice me.
But I swear not all of my life is a physical mess! The beginning of summer is taking a chill pill (or a sweltering hot pill) in preparation for the insanity that is coming up. 10 days in Africa is looming quite soon. Not exactly the way I thought I would be feeling about it, but there isn't much to do about it unfortunately. I'll go and try not to punch too many white people in the face. That will be that. Then the day after I get back is our 4th of July party which Tim has taken charge of. So at least I'll have that to directly look forward to while in Kenya.
Then a family vacation to Colorado for a week, which will be absolutely SPLENDID. I havent been to Copper Mountain in five-ish years and I want to go now. Like, yesterday. It's going to be perfect. I can just tell now.
A wedding weekend in Fargo. Then a fantabulous wedding outside of Boston which we are turning into a week long trip involving an Incubus concert, a Cirque du Soleil show, Boston vs Yankees game, few days in Boston, capped off with the wedding and subsequent wedding bonfire.
And then athletic season starts.....the football and volleyball schedule is already out. Seems like summer is already almost over before it's begun!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Mind Spew.
Today's thoughts come from the fact that this is the second night in a row that Tim has worked extra late.
1) I saw Frau walking on 12th today. That woman has clearly made a deal with the devil and cheated death.
2) Sometimes its scary when I realize how little doctors know. Going to Africa takes a lot of medications. Doctor #1 gave me azithromycin, saying that cipro wasn't broad enough and wouldn't work. Doctor #2 said the exact opposite, that cipro would kill everything and the other was super restricted in working. Ugh. Although Doctor #1 also tried to give me several pointless injections as well, sooo.... Doctor #2 it is. Extra bonus points to him because he gives me Xanax.
3) I got my car back from it getting fixed. Someone backed into it and basically the entire door needed replacing, but yet, when I got it fixed, the sealing wasn't sealing, there is a GIANT portion of paint missing, and there is a grinder scratch in the back door. They've always done such a good job, way to totally slack on that one. But I should be getting my new car next week sometime. Which leads me into....
4) My dad got called by the dealer who is looking for my new car today. To explain that was supposed to be blue, is really a charcoal gray. That's fine, Charcoal is dealable. Silver is not. Not the point though. Apparently the lister of the cars for the dealership is colorblind, and basically all the cars are listed as the wrong color. You would think that they'd have someone else do that part.....
BUT THEN. I got a call back from my dad saying that this charcoal car isn't even meant for me at all. Somehow my dealer had left the other dealership (seller) with the WRONG car. The seller said gave it to them, said it was the right one, and let them take it out of the state all the way back here. Vin numbers don't match. Totally wrong car. Crazy careless much?
5) Without a diagram, its virtually impossible to explain this story in full, but I shall summarize as best as I can. Car parked in a no parking zone. And even if it was, it would be parallel parking, but the car is angle parked, halfway in the street, in the red zone, and inside is a 90 year old woman eating a sandwich without a care in the world. Like, "Oh! Im hungry for tuna melt, let me pull over RIGHT HERE" People should have to take a yearly driving test after the age of 70. Suck it up old people, it takes 15 minutes, if you can't wait that long, you shouldn't be driving anyway.
6) I am currently starting my fifth episode of the night of Ally McBeal. Something tells me at least six is likely, possibly seven.
1) I saw Frau walking on 12th today. That woman has clearly made a deal with the devil and cheated death.
2) Sometimes its scary when I realize how little doctors know. Going to Africa takes a lot of medications. Doctor #1 gave me azithromycin, saying that cipro wasn't broad enough and wouldn't work. Doctor #2 said the exact opposite, that cipro would kill everything and the other was super restricted in working. Ugh. Although Doctor #1 also tried to give me several pointless injections as well, sooo.... Doctor #2 it is. Extra bonus points to him because he gives me Xanax.
3) I got my car back from it getting fixed. Someone backed into it and basically the entire door needed replacing, but yet, when I got it fixed, the sealing wasn't sealing, there is a GIANT portion of paint missing, and there is a grinder scratch in the back door. They've always done such a good job, way to totally slack on that one. But I should be getting my new car next week sometime. Which leads me into....
4) My dad got called by the dealer who is looking for my new car today. To explain that was supposed to be blue, is really a charcoal gray. That's fine, Charcoal is dealable. Silver is not. Not the point though. Apparently the lister of the cars for the dealership is colorblind, and basically all the cars are listed as the wrong color. You would think that they'd have someone else do that part.....
BUT THEN. I got a call back from my dad saying that this charcoal car isn't even meant for me at all. Somehow my dealer had left the other dealership (seller) with the WRONG car. The seller said gave it to them, said it was the right one, and let them take it out of the state all the way back here. Vin numbers don't match. Totally wrong car. Crazy careless much?
5) Without a diagram, its virtually impossible to explain this story in full, but I shall summarize as best as I can. Car parked in a no parking zone. And even if it was, it would be parallel parking, but the car is angle parked, halfway in the street, in the red zone, and inside is a 90 year old woman eating a sandwich without a care in the world. Like, "Oh! Im hungry for tuna melt, let me pull over RIGHT HERE" People should have to take a yearly driving test after the age of 70. Suck it up old people, it takes 15 minutes, if you can't wait that long, you shouldn't be driving anyway.
6) I am currently starting my fifth episode of the night of Ally McBeal. Something tells me at least six is likely, possibly seven.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
No more wisdom for me.
I like to moan and groan about my teeth a lot. More specifically, my dentist. But this post will be moan and groan about the dentist free! But it shall still all be about my teefies! Or the lack there of now. Two yanked five years ago. Two more yanked on Thursday. See? Proof!
Tim didn't have to work til 9:45, and my appointment was for 8am. Its not like its brain surgery, aka, it super quick, so he drove me to the appointment, met Mom there. The nurse was beyond amazing, really nice and just awesome in comparison to the heinous ladies at my dentist. Especially when I was one of "those" patients, and asked if I could get the IV line in my hand instead of my elbow. I felt bad, but it just eases my mind a lot. No problems. Waited maybe three/four minutes for the doctor. Lovely man. I asked right away about how soon I could work out, and he seemed surprised, but amused by it.
Our only other conversation was me asking if I could have the teeth if they came out whole (yeah, I know, its sick, but whatever). My arm hurt and then burned when he injected the sleep stuff. Then my wrist felt like someone snapped it, but then I felt it hit my heart and spread crazy fast, I remember maybe two or three images between that sensation (8:10am at the latest) and waking up on my couch at noon. Trying to write on a piece of paper. The car. Those two images are literally like someone took a picture of the event, and then showed me once, three months ago. So those are super fuzzy. I remember slightly better walking in the garage. Then Tim coming in and telling mom he bought pudding and changing my gauze cause apparently I kept saying that I was choking.
Thats it. Then noon. Not five minutes after I woke up, my GLORIOUS Mommy came over with a marshmallow peach shake. Total treat of awesome.Even though I didn't eat it until 4 or 5. She stayed for maybe 20 minutes. But once I woke up, I was totally awake. No more lethargy. Just very cozy on the couch. Complete with round the clock care by a very attentive nurse.
Tim later said that when they got taken back to the recovery room, I apparently asked for my teeth about every five minutes, and then as soon as the doctor came in to talk to mom and Tim, I asked him AGAIN when I could work out. I still have my paper of me trying to communicate. Lots of squiggles. Pretty much every legible scratch involves me liking drugs. One is just a heart with drugs written in it. And another says, David, I like drugs. And I do not remember a single part of it. Ill just be thankful for that part.
My mouth barely hurt, but maybe only slightly more than an aggressive dentist visit. Tim didn't force drugs on me as soon as it was over, knowing I would just pass out anyway, and by noon I decided it wasn't bad enough yet to just take them. So I didn't, and never ended up taking any at all that day, which pleased me, since I havent actually taken a painkiller in probably a few years. Although yesterday morning, waking up, after having probably clenched my jaw all night...I popped those babies in like candy!
A side effect I didn't expect was how bad my hand and arm hurt. I have a tiny bruise and a rather large prick hole on my hand from the injection, but my arm has been pretty nasty feeling all day, all the way up to the elbow really. Like I had held my arm up and it just got blindsided by someone in a Geo Metro. A small, yet still large metal automobile. But no puffy face! At least I don't think so. Tim says a little bit, but I sure can't tell.
So that's that. Four teeth out. Here's hoping I'm not a shark relative and won't be finding any more rows of teeth back there anytime in the near future....or ever.
Tim didn't have to work til 9:45, and my appointment was for 8am. Its not like its brain surgery, aka, it super quick, so he drove me to the appointment, met Mom there. The nurse was beyond amazing, really nice and just awesome in comparison to the heinous ladies at my dentist. Especially when I was one of "those" patients, and asked if I could get the IV line in my hand instead of my elbow. I felt bad, but it just eases my mind a lot. No problems. Waited maybe three/four minutes for the doctor. Lovely man. I asked right away about how soon I could work out, and he seemed surprised, but amused by it.
Our only other conversation was me asking if I could have the teeth if they came out whole (yeah, I know, its sick, but whatever). My arm hurt and then burned when he injected the sleep stuff. Then my wrist felt like someone snapped it, but then I felt it hit my heart and spread crazy fast, I remember maybe two or three images between that sensation (8:10am at the latest) and waking up on my couch at noon. Trying to write on a piece of paper. The car. Those two images are literally like someone took a picture of the event, and then showed me once, three months ago. So those are super fuzzy. I remember slightly better walking in the garage. Then Tim coming in and telling mom he bought pudding and changing my gauze cause apparently I kept saying that I was choking.
Thats it. Then noon. Not five minutes after I woke up, my GLORIOUS Mommy came over with a marshmallow peach shake. Total treat of awesome.Even though I didn't eat it until 4 or 5. She stayed for maybe 20 minutes. But once I woke up, I was totally awake. No more lethargy. Just very cozy on the couch. Complete with round the clock care by a very attentive nurse.
Tim later said that when they got taken back to the recovery room, I apparently asked for my teeth about every five minutes, and then as soon as the doctor came in to talk to mom and Tim, I asked him AGAIN when I could work out. I still have my paper of me trying to communicate. Lots of squiggles. Pretty much every legible scratch involves me liking drugs. One is just a heart with drugs written in it. And another says, David, I like drugs. And I do not remember a single part of it. Ill just be thankful for that part.
My mouth barely hurt, but maybe only slightly more than an aggressive dentist visit. Tim didn't force drugs on me as soon as it was over, knowing I would just pass out anyway, and by noon I decided it wasn't bad enough yet to just take them. So I didn't, and never ended up taking any at all that day, which pleased me, since I havent actually taken a painkiller in probably a few years. Although yesterday morning, waking up, after having probably clenched my jaw all night...I popped those babies in like candy!
A side effect I didn't expect was how bad my hand and arm hurt. I have a tiny bruise and a rather large prick hole on my hand from the injection, but my arm has been pretty nasty feeling all day, all the way up to the elbow really. Like I had held my arm up and it just got blindsided by someone in a Geo Metro. A small, yet still large metal automobile. But no puffy face! At least I don't think so. Tim says a little bit, but I sure can't tell.
So that's that. Four teeth out. Here's hoping I'm not a shark relative and won't be finding any more rows of teeth back there anytime in the near future....or ever.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Dentist Doom
This entry includes the sentence: My mom is just excited cause I will draw her pictures that resemble a four year olds masterpiece while still totally drugged up and seeing unicorns again. (See? Now you want to read it).
Last week I went to the dentist. I have NEVER had even a neutral experience there. See: Bruising and Torture.
And of course, this past visit was no different. I actually was meant to go in quite awhile ago (its probably been a year), but with our New Zealand extravaganza, I just kind of ignored it. Well, my top wisdom teeth are all the way in, and the only way to get them out is to get a referral. So once again, suckered into the dentist.
That being said, when I got my bottom wisdom teeth out near a decade ago, he told me that there were no top wisdom teeth on the x-rays, and by that age, they should be at least visible in x-ray by now, so I had been lucky enough to escape top ones. CLEARLY WRONG.
There's more to that part of the story, but I feel like I should share the beginning of my lovely day at the dentist. It's typical to be in the office for close to two hours between all the waiting between steps that you have to do at my dentist, he beyond overbooks and is always late. But I arrived around 9:50 for my 10am appointment. Checked in, sat down.
Waited. 10am hits. Two guys walk in within five minutes of each other, both are taken back to their rooms before they can even sit down in the waiting room. I get annoyed that I have been there ten minutes and they just get to walk in. So I go up and "check" to make sure my appointment was at 10 (read: reminding the community college graduate behind the desk that I was still waiting).
She responds, "It's only 10:05"
"Well, yeah, but those two guys walked right in so I just wondered...."
"They have different hygienists than you, yours will be done soon"
All with immense attitude. I sat down and contemplated the concept of pre-assigning the hygienists and the complete annoyance of such practice.
Finally being shown into a room, forced into small talk where I showed my heinous side of how unhappy the dentist makes me in order to shut the woman up so I don't have to talk with her hands in my mouth, I tell her about my top wisdom teeth. She pulls up my x-ray and says,
WAIT FOR IT
"Oh yes, I see your bottom left tooth poking through"
Yup. Remember up to the top of the story that I had my bottom wisdom teeth removed years back. They don't exist. And this moron of a lady is claiming to see them on my x-ray. I swear its to get me to like her and stop being so angsty.
I don't care. I judge her ferociously and continue the rest of my visit. Ugh.
Then there was quite a glorious argument with the lady scheduling the surgery about my insistance about going under during the extraction. I think by the end of it the lady understood that if I was this bitchy awake and at the END of appointment, no one should have to deal with me during the process of terrifying me half to death and making me bleed from the mouth.
My mom is just excited cause I will draw her pictures that resemble a four year olds masterpiece while still totally drugged up and seeing unicorns again. The humor she finds in my pain.... *sigh*
Two weeks from tomorrow I will be short two more teeth. I am now accepting get well gifts, cards, as well as poetry. ESPECIALLY since Tim will be working during my recovery, and I will be left at the hands of my mother, who clearly has shown her sympathy traits above....No really. Feel free. ;-)
Last week I went to the dentist. I have NEVER had even a neutral experience there. See: Bruising and Torture.
And of course, this past visit was no different. I actually was meant to go in quite awhile ago (its probably been a year), but with our New Zealand extravaganza, I just kind of ignored it. Well, my top wisdom teeth are all the way in, and the only way to get them out is to get a referral. So once again, suckered into the dentist.
That being said, when I got my bottom wisdom teeth out near a decade ago, he told me that there were no top wisdom teeth on the x-rays, and by that age, they should be at least visible in x-ray by now, so I had been lucky enough to escape top ones. CLEARLY WRONG.
There's more to that part of the story, but I feel like I should share the beginning of my lovely day at the dentist. It's typical to be in the office for close to two hours between all the waiting between steps that you have to do at my dentist, he beyond overbooks and is always late. But I arrived around 9:50 for my 10am appointment. Checked in, sat down.
Waited. 10am hits. Two guys walk in within five minutes of each other, both are taken back to their rooms before they can even sit down in the waiting room. I get annoyed that I have been there ten minutes and they just get to walk in. So I go up and "check" to make sure my appointment was at 10 (read: reminding the community college graduate behind the desk that I was still waiting).
She responds, "It's only 10:05"
"Well, yeah, but those two guys walked right in so I just wondered...."
"They have different hygienists than you, yours will be done soon"
All with immense attitude. I sat down and contemplated the concept of pre-assigning the hygienists and the complete annoyance of such practice.
Finally being shown into a room, forced into small talk where I showed my heinous side of how unhappy the dentist makes me in order to shut the woman up so I don't have to talk with her hands in my mouth, I tell her about my top wisdom teeth. She pulls up my x-ray and says,
WAIT FOR IT
"Oh yes, I see your bottom left tooth poking through"
Yup. Remember up to the top of the story that I had my bottom wisdom teeth removed years back. They don't exist. And this moron of a lady is claiming to see them on my x-ray. I swear its to get me to like her and stop being so angsty.
I don't care. I judge her ferociously and continue the rest of my visit. Ugh.
Then there was quite a glorious argument with the lady scheduling the surgery about my insistance about going under during the extraction. I think by the end of it the lady understood that if I was this bitchy awake and at the END of appointment, no one should have to deal with me during the process of terrifying me half to death and making me bleed from the mouth.
My mom is just excited cause I will draw her pictures that resemble a four year olds masterpiece while still totally drugged up and seeing unicorns again. The humor she finds in my pain.... *sigh*
Two weeks from tomorrow I will be short two more teeth. I am now accepting get well gifts, cards, as well as poetry. ESPECIALLY since Tim will be working during my recovery, and I will be left at the hands of my mother, who clearly has shown her sympathy traits above....No really. Feel free. ;-)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I'm a whiner with a reason.
I wasn't ever planning on posting this blather, but today just made me want to scream and punch something. This seems better than bloody knuckles at the moment....but I'll make it quick.
Hitting high school, I was more than chubby. Entered college, discovered the gym, lost a lot of weight. Moved back to Iowa three years later, and went absolutely crazy with it. Tim was in grad school all night, so I had plenty of time to run and go to classes at the rec. Last summer I was at my prime, and for some reason, my body just stopped. I plateaued, which was fine by me, but now over the past 6 months or so, I started gaining again. I have kept my diet and exercise routine, and it is the most frustrating aggrivating thing in the entire world.
This is a vast majority of what I eat. Fruit. Lots of it. Plenty of carrots and broccoli too. Throw in some oatmeal and cereal and you have my favorites. I am trying to get more protein in, but not liking a lot of meat, its a lot of egg dishes for me. 1200 calories a day. And its not approximate, I measure everything. It seems crazy, but it helps a lot.
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I run like crazy. 5 to 8 miles a day. 5 to 6 days a week. On an incline. Its impossible to run more than this, it takes FOREVER. Thank god for tivo. On top of that, I do yoga four days a week and an abs and core class twice a week.
So after trying some new routines and failing, I finally gave in and went to the doctor, too worried to avoid it anymore. I keep gaining and it drives me insane. I cant eat less, I cant work out more, and yeah, Im not as big as I was, but if it keeps going, where will it stop? I just cant afford a personal trainer right now in life, and frankly, what else are they going to tell me that I dont know? So in to the doctor!
I dont know what I was expecting, but it was not what he told me. He pretty much automatically assumed that I was lying about what I do and how i eat and told me that I should lift upper body weights and be more careful about what I eat. My mom was diagnosed with a thyroid issue recently, so to humor me, he had me pricked, but his attitude was ridiculous. No talk of vitamins or supplements or any possible problems with my body. It was straight to more exercise. Ridiculous. And then he said that I have come a long way since I was younger and should just be happy with that and be happy with my body. Excuse me? I am gaining weight here, its not like I am trying to become a supermodel, I just want to buy normal pants! I currently have to get pants two sizes two big for my waist because of my thighs. Its miserable.
Ugh. Sorry. Its a long term aggrivation for the past eight months. And I have completely hit a wall with nowhere to go. It's like, I might as well give up since nothing works. I know I wont. But still, GGRRRRRRRR. Help.
Hitting high school, I was more than chubby. Entered college, discovered the gym, lost a lot of weight. Moved back to Iowa three years later, and went absolutely crazy with it. Tim was in grad school all night, so I had plenty of time to run and go to classes at the rec. Last summer I was at my prime, and for some reason, my body just stopped. I plateaued, which was fine by me, but now over the past 6 months or so, I started gaining again. I have kept my diet and exercise routine, and it is the most frustrating aggrivating thing in the entire world.
This is a vast majority of what I eat. Fruit. Lots of it. Plenty of carrots and broccoli too. Throw in some oatmeal and cereal and you have my favorites. I am trying to get more protein in, but not liking a lot of meat, its a lot of egg dishes for me. 1200 calories a day. And its not approximate, I measure everything. It seems crazy, but it helps a lot. .jpg)
I run like crazy. 5 to 8 miles a day. 5 to 6 days a week. On an incline. Its impossible to run more than this, it takes FOREVER. Thank god for tivo. On top of that, I do yoga four days a week and an abs and core class twice a week. So after trying some new routines and failing, I finally gave in and went to the doctor, too worried to avoid it anymore. I keep gaining and it drives me insane. I cant eat less, I cant work out more, and yeah, Im not as big as I was, but if it keeps going, where will it stop? I just cant afford a personal trainer right now in life, and frankly, what else are they going to tell me that I dont know? So in to the doctor!
I dont know what I was expecting, but it was not what he told me. He pretty much automatically assumed that I was lying about what I do and how i eat and told me that I should lift upper body weights and be more careful about what I eat. My mom was diagnosed with a thyroid issue recently, so to humor me, he had me pricked, but his attitude was ridiculous. No talk of vitamins or supplements or any possible problems with my body. It was straight to more exercise. Ridiculous. And then he said that I have come a long way since I was younger and should just be happy with that and be happy with my body. Excuse me? I am gaining weight here, its not like I am trying to become a supermodel, I just want to buy normal pants! I currently have to get pants two sizes two big for my waist because of my thighs. Its miserable.Ugh. Sorry. Its a long term aggrivation for the past eight months. And I have completely hit a wall with nowhere to go. It's like, I might as well give up since nothing works. I know I wont. But still, GGRRRRRRRR. Help.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
DPP: Sucky Sickness
My father was sick. I survived. Tim was sick. I survived. I wake up the day before Christmas and I want to die. I leave in less than a week for Europe. I have a RIDICULOUS amount of stuff to do. All I want to do is sleep. My brain is being beaten by a meat hammer.
I did bite the bullet though. I usually wait a few days before going to the doctor. I called to get in as soon as I woke up. I am kicking this asap. Wish me luck. :(
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