I'm Over the Collar
A nondescript doctor comes in for what seems like a few seconds and announces that I have a pneumothorax. They might insert a chest tube. But until they have my cat scan read they won’t. I learn from a nurse ten minutes later that this is a collapsed lung. There is air loitering outside of my lung. I also have a broken rib. Duh. It’s obligatory. They take my collar off.
Ben is wearing blue scrubs, curly chest hair is peeking out and he has on a small gold chain. I’m put off but have to remind myself that the V-neck collar is standard issue. He’s an anesthesiologist and I know that they make a lot of money. This is reassuring to me. He does have a matter-of-fact, witty manner about him and uses medical terminology that seems legit so I decide he’s alright. My spleen is bleeding. They’re going to check it out through an artery in my groin. But I have to be conscious because I will need to hold my breath under their expert guidance at several times throughout the procedure. This is the first time I remember feeling a sense of embarrassment. It’s not happening at the moment but it is pending. ‘Groin.’ Uh oh. I mean I’ve been completely naked (save for the collar) and had a nurse use a baby wipe to get glass out of my butt crack, but this groin business is troublesome. My legs have substantial hair growth and the focal point, if you will, is extremely unkempt. Things have reached rock bottom down there because… I’m… I’m… menstruating. I mean obviously I don’t mention it. I’m fucked up enough from the constant pain meds and severe pain that I don’t care enough to verbalize it. Not even to my mother once we are alone.
He didn’t mention the chest tube at all, I figure the spleen embolization is the new chest tube. BtER comes in to tell me our time together is over. I’m saddened by this because she is like the perfect nurse. I’m introduced to my OR nurse, Jeannie. I don’t like her tone or bedside manner. She asks BtER dumb questions that my chart had the answers to. Maybe I’m just annoyed because I’m picking up on BtER’s vibe but whatever. I’ve expended too much energy worrying about my groin and I’m sleepy.
I have to pee sooooo bad. I try to tell them that I can get up and go to the bathroom. Lol, I don’t know why I thought I was capable of such a feat, but I sing this song to several nurses and techs. One of the techs almost buys it but uses her better judgement and goes to ask my doctor. A nurse returns with a bed pan. She sets it up and everyone leaves the room. I give it what seemed like an hour but was realistically 3 minutes before I call it a day. This sucks. I go through this unfruitful routine several times before I finally have success. And by success I only mean voiding my bladder. I make no claims regarding urine to bed pan vs urine to bed ratios.
Ben the Italian Stallion returns accompanied by Jeannie the One I Don’t Like. I’m wheeled off to the OR, it’s bright as shit and there are a bunch of people in there. We do the whole lifting and sliding bit and then BtIS puts a mask on me. I don’t remember anything until I feel a weird pressure and cramping sensation in my abdomen, but I must have been awake and following directions. ‘Ben?’ I let him know that whatever they are doing hurts, they do something to make it hurt less. Shortly afterwards Ben tells me that they’re done.
Oh fuck. For the first time, I’m happy to see JtOIDL. We women have means of dealing with menstruation and on this day I’ve chosen to deal with it internally. The device needs to be removed. I tell JtOIDL. She’s super cool about it. Let’s not mince words: JTOIDL REMOVES MY TAMPON IN A BRIGHTLY LIT OR FILLED WITH RANDOM PEOPLE. As a consolation I get a bunch of gauze mashed between my legs. I’m wheeled back to my room.
Part IV.. coming soon...