Miss Hollywood

A lot of people say to me that the fact that I can laugh at my situation makes me strong. That couldn't be farther from the truth. Some days I am a grouch and just need to be left alone and some days I want to have a sob fest for myself. Its just when you have had so much (I just have to say it) SHIT happen to you that I have you either learn to laugh or go mental. Some days I teeter on that balance beam but always try to stay on the humorous side. 

About a week and a half ago I went in to have my old PORT taken out and a new one put in. My mom went with me and we went in about an hour before hand, normal protocol. They did the usual blood work and all that jazz, and I laid in the bed accessorized with my dark sunglasses and mask waiting to go back. Then my nurse pops her head in the door; “The doc isn’t feeling so good, he’s been sick all morning. I think he’s going to call it off.” I was okay with this to be honest because I really wanted to go home and lay down. So the head nurse comes in and tells us that he is going to reschedule so that we can leave in a minute. As soon as she left the hospital room phone range. I answered and it was my surgeon’s receptionist at his office telling me he wanted me to come back two days later for the surgery. Great, so I can leave now? Nope. My nurse popped her head back in the door and said “Wait a minute, he feels better. Think he’s going to do it today.” My mother and I shared a glance and busted out laughing. Only to me would this happen. After they changed their minds two more times the surgeon finally decided he felt ok. 

My mother was not happy about this because she didn’t want me to be exposed to any more germs than possible. I simply laughed and just said “It’s ok as long as he doesn’t puke in one of my open wounds!” Ahh life! I go back to the holding room and one of my favorite anesthesiologist comes over to talk to me and greets me with my hospital acquired nickname; “Miss Hollywood!” Apparently my dark sunglasses don’t give me that hard rocker look but the hollywood glamour look. And I’m not sure if it’s reassuring or sad that everyone in the surgery ward of my hospital knows me by name. 

In the operating room it took the anesthesiologist quite a while to get me to sleep, and to their astonishment or embarrassment they made a joke at which I laughed only for them to realize I was still awake. Priceless moments I tell you! About an hour later I was good to go home. Minus one old PORT, plus one new PORT, plus 14 stitches later and PONGO was welcomed to my right subclavian. And the forever infamous PICC line number 8 was pulled! Scary thing about that was the lumen that wasn’t working had about an inch and a half long clot in it! Apparently that’s what you get when you are as sweet as me...blood as thick as maple syrup! Haha!