… too tired to type so here’s a summary of why…
School run, quick dog walk then dropped her at the pet salon for a bath. Straight to my 9.50 appointment with my surgeon. All good, but I need to work at strengthening my knee. She discharges me then spends the rest of the appointment asking about my boy’s school because she is unhappy with the public system. I then go to the mall to see if I can get better swimming bags for the boys, I buy scented candles instead. Then to Costco because believe it or not there is very little food left. After a MONSTER shop I head home. I walk through the door at 12.45.
I am wasting away so I eat leftover Kale & Quinoa salad & it tastes amazing because I’m so hungry. I check my email & find out that the swimming club will be selling club wear on Monday at the pool – I need not have gone for bags. I set to & put everything away. I stack all the meat in the fridge because I haven’t got time to put it all through the food saver. I finish up with everything else at 2.20. I make a cup of tea & strum my guitar for 15 minutes before going out again to pick everyone up. I am so glad that elder child has a lot of homework so he doesn’t want to play in the playground. We pick up Tessy on our way home. She sits in the back of the Mini with the roof down pretending to be a canine Loreal advert.
Home, drink, snack & homework. I put all the meat through the food saver while younger child moans & groans sat at the kitchen island at how mean I am making him do all his writing practice when it doesn’t have to be in until Thursday. I point out that it is club swimming tomorrow after school so there will be no time. He is not convinced. After the meat I have to start & make dinner. I discover that despite all the food I have purchased I don’t have enough fusilli or penne so it’s Mac & cheese. Hubby is very late…
We finally eat & the boys shower. After cleaning all the bits of kitchen hubby forgot to do when he washed up, I make lunches for tomorrow. I then discover that the boys have no clean polo shirts for school – GRRRRR!!! I put a white load in the washing machine & declare I am done, done, DONE!!!
I run a bath & start a new book. When I get out hubby asks if I’m interested in wine – Really dear, you have to ask?
And that was just a summary!
Today I had a pre-op assessment prior to surgery which is in less than 3 weeks. I wasn’t surprised they wanted to see me beforehand, I’m not as straightforward as most women my age, & as I already had an appointment to have blood work done that my rheumatologist had requested it made sense to get everything done on the same day, so I did that this morning.
So I rock up at the pre-admission clinic like I was told to do when they called to book the appointment. Of course it wasn’t that simple because I hadn’t been to registration first because I’m not a mind reader. So I then go there & take ticket number 32, the number on the electronic board was 23 – great! I’d been in the building for 10 minutes & already I could tell that 1 hour worth of parking wasn’t going to be enough. As it happens I only sat there for about 15-20 minutes before my number came up. The registration process was quick as they were expecting me & had all me paperwork there. I now had a little bit more confidence in the system…
Back at the clinic I am greeted by a nurse who takes the paperwork, & weighs me (without it, thank god, it was at least one tree), & I sit down for another nurse to take over (one nurse is obviously not capable of doing the full assessment). No sooner does the new nurse start speaking when the anaesthetist walks in, so the nurse stops & allows him to take over, but she listens in so she doesn’t ask the same questions. He apparently knows my husband from a few years back so makes some small talk in between medical questions. The main reason I am being questioned is because of the medications I take – especially my biologic (the injection). One of the other drugs I am on is a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory, but a slightly different drug to the Ibruprofen or Diclofenac that many of you might know. Normally it is advised to stop taking these drugs a few days before surgery, but I take Celebrex which is a little different & therefore I do not need to stop taking it. I am relieved about this because I will have already been without my biologic for over 5 weeks by the time surgery comes around & may be starting to feel the effects. All is well with him, he’ll see me on the day & the nurse takes over for a bit, then I think I’m done…
Not likely, the nurse then sends me off to see an internal medicine physician & I question why. Apparently it’s because of my medications that I have just discussed with the doctor that is actually going to put me to sleep, shouldn’t it be all sorted? Nope, apparently not, I must see this other guy. So off I go. I extended my parking while I wait, thinking half an hour should do it. I am called in & the guy is very polite & friendly, & very concerned I am on a biologic & I’m about to have surgery. I explain the plan I have with my rheumatologist & he is confused there is no record of this plan in my chart. No there won’t be, I see him regularly, & know him well. We discussed it very recently at my last consultation; it’s all taken care of – he’s kinda the guy in charge of me. This didn’t seem to sit well with him; a doctor I’ve never clapped eyes on in my life & probably never will again wanted to devise is own plan. I eventually manage to convince him that it was under control. Then we moved onto the Celebrex that he wanted me to stop about 6 days prior to surgery… errr no, the anaesthetist said I could still take it. For the love of all that’s medical people – make your bloody minds up!!
To cut a long consultation short, he was not happy about me taking it & was going to discuss it with his colleague – that would be the doctor who is actually going to be the one managing me on the day & frankly saw no reason to stop it, & therefore the one I’m going to listen to thank you very much. Not only that, no biologic & no Celebrex for almost a week will not give me a very good start to making a recovery. I eventually escape & return to the clinic thinking I must be done now…
NOPE! I now needed bloodwork & an ECG. They had to be kidding me; I had only just had bloodwork that morning, taken from the only place that anyone seems to be able to get any out of me. Apparently they needed more. So I have a right old rant to the nurse explaining that nobody told me any of this on the phone when I booked the appointment. I had my kids to pick up from camp, which is all the way back across town. Had I known that I was going to be 2 hours I would have requested an earlier appointment. She said I should have been told all of this when the appointment was made. Great! Thanks!
So, off I go to ECG, while adding MORE time onto my parking, & texting hubby to see if he can go for the boys. I get to ECG, wait in ANOTHER waiting area, eventually go in, & lay on the bed. The technician lays a sheet over me & asks if I can up my dress – I was wearing an all in one shorts & top romper style thing. I explain it needs to come down for him to gain access to my chest, which I was more than happy to do but he seemed embarrassed about. In the end I just got on with it – I mean really – & he got the job done not knowing where to look. Honestly you would think I was lying there completely naked (yes I had a bra on there was nothing indecent about me at all). Mind you, he was only about 16 so maybe that’s why! I then go back to the clinic AGAIN, swap the ECG for the bloodwork forms & head to the lab where the phlebotomist attacks the opposite arm from the earlier bloodwork (so both arms now very sore) & pokes around for a few minutes before finally getting what she needed… Hallelujah!! I was free to go… & face sitting in traffic for another 2 hours just to get home.
I hope the surgery is going to be a bit more organized!
06.30 – Day 2 of the virus & broken sleep. I go to wake elder child because he is at running club for 7am. I don’t normally take him, in fact I’ve never taken him – so this routine is alien to me. I go back to get dressed etc.
06.40 – I check in on elder child & the monkey had turned over & fallen asleep again. He didn’t remember I’d already woken him once.
06.45 – He emerges shirtless, in plain black shorts – because he’s lost his spare logoed pair – he can’t find his gym shirt, & I swear I washed both shirts at the weekend. Obviously one set of gym kit has to stay at school, but the other should be at home. He has breakfast while I look in his room & in the laundry room. Definitely no shirt! I dig out his old one from last year – school changed the style this year for an updated dry-flow one just to make sure we spend even more money educating our children.
06.55 – After throwing himself together & barely brushing his teeth, we leave.
07.02 – We pull up outside school, he rolls out of the car. I wish him a good day & a fun field trip to the Maritime museum, & off he goes. Field trips require what they call No.1 uniform (shirt & tie with blazer & all the trimmings!).
07.25 – Back at the sanatorium sick people are still sleeping – at least they were until I let the dog out & she started barking at invisible intruders.
07.40 – Hubby & younger child appear looking not much better really. Tylenol & Advil for breakfast then!
08.10 – I am being a grumpy cow because I’m nervous & scared about the afternoon trip to the hospital. I haven’t showered, or done my hair or makeup & I’m wearing dog walking clothes because they were the nearest thing I could find in the dark. I look an absolute treat when I happen to see elder child’s blazer hanging on his peg. I think I actually swore out loud – younger child was upstairs & hubby was in the shower so nobody heard.
08.20 – I text elder child’s teacher to see when they are leaving for their trip & do I have time to bring the blazer. I leave anyway, mad I was so disorganised.
08.40 – It takes me twice as long to get to school because I’m now in rush hour traffic. I rock up outside & throw my hazards on because I should be no more than a few minutes. I punch the code into the front door – nothing. I have the right numbers but maybe not in the right order, I try several combinations – nothing. I catch the lovely receptionist eye (she is always letting me in because I never remember the code!) & would you believe it wasn’t locked yet, that is why I didn’t hear it click – blonde moment!
0845 – I walk out of the elevator & his teacher is sat at her desk opposite me, she smiles & informs my son that a lovely lady has brought something for him. He gives me a big hug, the entire class are sat in their blazers but him so it was worth going back even if it was a pain. I take the elevator back down hoping I don’t’ run into hot teacher because I look like a homeless person.
08.50 – I escaped without embarrassment & head home AGAIN!
10.30 – After a serious discussion from hubby because I’m being snappy & miserable, I shower & sort myself out. I don’t really feel like putting makeup on or dressing in anything more than yoga pants & a sweatshirt. I feel nauseous as the clock ticks.
12.00 – After doing laundry, & a few other bits & bobs I feel like the time is dragging by. I don’t really want lunch but I had to eat something. Younger child is still not eating great, & hubby’s appetite is poor too. We all sit at the island pushing grapes around our plates.
13.15 – I take younger child next door for the afternoon with a backpack of activities & his iPad. My neighbor wished me luck & not to worry about the little guy, he will be fine gardening with her husband. We are really lucky to have such lovely neighbours.
13.50 – I check in at the ultrasound department & go straight in to get changed. I won’t let hubby leave, but they don’t normally allow people in. The nurse talks to the doctor & it’s all fine in the end – phew!
14.10 – The doctor doing the injection had been present at the radiology rounds where they discussed my case. He has done this procedure many many times, but usually after some sort of trauma which I have not had. He spoke with a soft Caribbean accent & had an excellent bedside manner. I was nervous, but felt more comfortable with the procedure once he explained his rational for doing it & what they actually saw on the MRI. He made sure I was comfortable after I chose to lay on my side, with hubby right there in front of me – I was squeezing his hand before anything happened.
The doctor told me when he was going to begin & proceeded to insert the needle & inject local anaesthetic under ultrasound guidance. He aimed right at the spot in which he could see the problem & I complained to be the most painful. It was a positive thing that these two things correlated. Then he injected…
I can only describe it as intense pressure that causes sharp severe pain. It was just as horrible as I thought it was going to be (I’ve have other joint injections so I kinda knew what to expect). Looking back now it didn’t last long, but at the time it felt like forever. He was good enough to give the local a few minutes to work before he injected the steroid. It was all fine until he injected right on that spot again, brutal. I tried as best I could to relax & breathe normally when I wanted to scream & cry & swear & curse & then it was over and that was it.
14.30 – I climbed off the bed shaking, & for the first time in six months I bent the knee without pain. However, I have forgotten how to walk properly.
15.10 – We pick elder child up from school & bless him he had brought me a little pressie back from his field trip. He could have quite easily spent the money on himself, but no, he bought me a really nice wall hook for my craft room & he gave the rest of the money to a friend who didn’t have enough to buy something she wanted.
15.40 – At home I pop next door to pick up the little guy who is much better (so can totally go back to school tomorrow) & spend 10 minutes trying to extract myself from my neighbor who can talk about nothing for days, possibly even weeks.
20.00 – After a stressful busy day I soak in the bath – I have a very pink leg I need to scrub clean – & hubby brings me a little glass of Rose (I never use those little glasses, 2 mouthfuls & it’s gone!). He places it down on the sink top behind me; I have a little moan about the inadequate size of the contents. I am just about finished my chapter so I reach back to get my bookmark &…
I’m sure he thinks I did it on purpose to get rid of those small glasses!
06.15 – Zombie!
Hubby is properly sick so I saw every hour on the clock & younger child was up in the night with a bad dream.
07.35 – Boot camp leaves the house on time!
07.50 – The boys go one way to their classrooms & I go the other in search of an orange dragon.
08.30 – Another productive morning of donations, the orange dragon was a big hit, then a meeting with the head honcho. We figure out how the kids will pick their prizes & how we will organize them on the day. I declare that during my time on the donation table no parent wants any of the toxic critters near their house EVER! So, if we make them balloon prizes nobody will buy a balloon (this is a separate stall to mine). I should have kept my mouth shut because the critters are now prizes on my stall so at least 3 parents in the school are now going to hate me forever!
09.15 – I check in with hubby to make sure he’s still alive & find out if he needs to see a doctor. He thinks not because he’s a stubborn doctor himself. He decides to wait a bit longer. I stay at school to box up the prizes.
11.00 – Home via the dollar store to pick up some supplies to bag up small prizes, & some coloured beads for the kids to pick out their prizes.
11.30 – I drag hubby off his deathbed to get some fresh air & walk the dog with me.
12.45 – Back at school sorting prizes – AGAIN!
14.45 – I meet with another mum who has volunteered to run the donation table because of course its hockey on a Tuesday.
15.10 – I scoop up younger child & teacher mum’s son. The drill is the same as last week – home, change into hockey gear, homework, eat, out again.
16.45 – Back at school to meet teacher mum & swap the kids over.
17.10 – Back home with elder child & his classmate (teacher mum’s elder child). While dinner is cooking I am punching holes in tickets & adding rubber bands so the kids can wear them around their wrists for when they get stamped at each station/activity. The deal is when they have a full card of 10 stamps they come to my prize table & pick out a prize.
17.45 – Call from teacher mum – younger child’s mouth guard is not in its case or his hockey stick bag so technically he shouldn’t play. She passes me over to the coach (who is a friend of ours) & I agree he can risk of playing without it.
18.15 – After dinner I continue with the tickets & rope hubby into helping – suddenly he’s dying again! The rain starts…
18.45 – It is bouncing down & hubby is glad he’s sick & not stood on the sideline.
19.15 – Teacher mum arrives with the two boys, both are shivering & soaked through, & she is not much drier.
19.45 – Younger child has had a warm bath & is wrapped up in his bed still shivering. Hubby checks his temperature & discovers he’s about to burst into flames – GREAT! I don’t have time this week for sick kids!!
20.15 – Wine!!