Thank God That’s Over

Ugh, I feel like gross this morning.

I need a day to sleep, but I can’t seem to make myself lay down for it.

ugh.

So yesterday… Here is  a bulleted run down.

* Got up at 4:30. My sister was sick so I didn’t have to get my kids up to leave. My mother seemed to be in ok spirits. Away to the hospital (which thankfully is  like 2 minutes from my house)

*Got the the hospital a little early and ended up waiting about an hour until she was finally called into the room.

*As she was waiting to go in, i sat with her. The anesthesilogist. ok. so that’s just spelled WRONG. do spell check monique, do spell check, i don’t WANT TO. anyway, the "let me give you something to make you sleep" guy got all paranoid about her cough. She is a smoker and has also had a cold for the last month or so. She has already been determined to NOT have any fluid in her lungs. But he was scared that if she was put under it would increase her chances. He stalled everything out until her surgeon came and told him she was fine and to stop panicking. I left as they wheeled her away. They said an hour for the surgery. It was 8 a.m.

* I went home to check on my kids. All was fine. Fed them pancakes, got back to the hospital by 8:30.

*Sat in the waiting room till about 10:30. Dr. came and spoke to me, telling me that she was fine and telling me a few treatement things we should do once she gets  home. She would be in recovery for another hour.

*I left at 11:25 to take Jonathon to school. I got back at noon and my mother was ready.

*I go back and the nurse instantly tells me my mother is not very happy. She looks ok, but she has the "i’m going to explode and take as many of these idiots with me" face. I brace myself.

*The drs want her to go home with oxygen. She begins to yell "I WON’T TAKE IT! i DON’T WANT IT! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME TAKE THAT HOME! I DON’T WANT IT! I DON’T WANT IT! I DONT’ WANT THAT SHIT!"

I try to calm her. She begins to fuss about the impetence of the dr’s. I guess when they put her into the room they did the following

*Almost pushed her off the bed trying to transfer her from the gurney.

*Put the wrong procedural stickers on her. Someone noticed they didn’t match before they cut into her thank god.

*They prepped her right shoulder when it was her LEFT shoulder that needed the surgery. My mother told them that and they looked obviously mortified.

*nobody knew how to put her sling on properly.

*So I’m standing there trying to keep mymother calm. The nurse asks if she’d like getting help dressed. My mother refuses. I try to help her and she makes me leave too. So I  stand out side of the curtain. When she gets to her top she starts to fuss again. I try to help her. And my poor topless mother can’t get her shirt on. So we have to take the sling off to get her shirt on properly or half her chest is going to be hanging out.

*While we are doing this, suddenly a bunch of male doctors are milling around and it’s pissing me off as well as her that they want to stand there while she’s struggling to get her shirt on. It was so rude, i started to get a little mad too. I closed the curtain in their faces. They were trying to talk to her about the oxygen while her boobs are hanging out. How professional right? ACK!

*A nurse (male) comes to try and help with her sling getting back on. My mother says she doesn’t want him to help her. He says something about "She’ll be coming out here doing the chicken dance in no time".

My mother goes BALLISTIC. She jumps up and tries to rush throught he curtain. She is screaming about how that wasn’t a funny joke and he doesn’t know her to make jokes and it’s not funny and she’s gonna kick his ass.

He mumbles something about "i’m going to get security"

*sigh*

nothing happens though.

*After more f ussing about hwo nobody knows waht they are doing, they can’t even put on their own fucking shit, blah balh blah, i finally get her out of there.

WE get home, she fusses for a few more minutes, FINALLY gets her meds (she couldn’t take them before the surgery) and she calms down.

it was after 1 in the afternoon before I got her to chill out.

what an ordeal.

but she’s fine, and hopefully she’ll do what the dr. said. we are going to go get her prescriptions filled today.

I hear her moving around downstairs. I should go check on her, she’s always doing stuff she shouldn’t be. I hear dishwater running. HOw can she wash dishes with one hand? UGH.

my mother.

i hate that damn phone commercial where they are butchering the "rock the casbah" song. it isn’t THAT hard to decipher. idiots. i hate it.

ok, i’m taking my obviously cranky ass to go check on my probably cranky assed mother.

i am going to really try to work on the next chapter of my story today….