Poked, prodded and probed, oh my

After I dropped off all the children at school and pre-school today, I had a pre-op appointment at the doctor's office to prepare for my surgery on Friday. Piece of cake, I'm thinking. Good Lord how wrong I was.

I arrive at the doctor's office at 9:20 for my 9:30 appointment. The doctor goes over the procedure and what to expect. I need to arrive at the hospital at 10 a.m. Friday. My procedure is scheduled for 11. Don't let the anesthesiologist try to talk me into a block, he says, just have him knock me out. Anesthesia has come a long way from the old days and I'll be in a light slumber and able to awake soon after the 30- to 45-minute procedure. It's an easy one. The doctor gets to sit down during it, he proudly said. It is his birthday Friday, too. Yippee for me. He explains a little about what they'll do. My kind of ganglion cyst returns about 10 percent of the time, but he'll do his best to keep that from happening by creating a little window in my joint to allow the fluid to move in and out of the joint. Theory is that the fluid can move out, gets stuck and can't get back in, so this (in theory) will solve that problem. I'll have a splint put on and then I return on election day to get a cast. It will be on for two weeks, then I'll get at removable splint that I can take off to sleep and bathe. I sign some papers acknowledging that I know I can die, have nerve damage, etc etc. Then I get this giant packet of stuff to carry to the hospital. Only 45 minutes at the doctor's office. Not bad.

Stop No. 2 for the day. I go to the pre-registration thing where I got my little pager thing. It was sort of cute. This little granny Blue Hair volunteer was explaining to me how the pager works. Thanks Grandma, I've got it down. Table for 1, non smoking. Oh wait, wrong place. I proceed to sit and wait. Fortunately, I had brought a baby blanket I'm making for a friend to work on. I go back and kill a few more trees with paperwork and then I'm off to another waiting area. I get leeched there for three vials of blood. Then, back to the waiting room.

Jesus (Mexican pronunciation, not the savior dude) comes to get me for my chest x-ray. Now, maybe I'm just paranoid, but women can usually smell lechery. I couldn't quite make up my mind if Jesus was trying to be kind or if he was doing a little improper touching. He takes me to a dressing area and tells me that I'll need to take my bra off. Oh yeah, and your shirt, too. Here is a gown for you to put on, it ties in the back. I was taken a little aback at the bra comment, but ok. Maybe he just didn't say in the right order and it sort of creeped me out. Then, he pulled the little curtain so I could change. But instead of walking outside the changing room, he just stood outside of the curtain. That was the second creepy feeling. Third creepy feeling came when he tied my gown for me a little more secure than I had it tied. But, I kept thinking, he is probably trying to help preserve what little modesty I have left. As he is guiding me to the x-ray area, he puts his hand on my shoulder several times. That was ok, but it got creepy AGAIN when instead of just guiding me, he was clutching my shoulder. You know what I mean? Like he was gripping it. The only words to really describe it are FUCKING CREEPY! He did this several times, too. I mean, I don't even do this to my guy and girl friends. It was almost borderline copping a feel - but unless he has a shoulder fetish, it isn't. *shrug* I'm probably reading too much into it, but it was effed up. Then, he takes me back to the dressing room with a last grab or two and tells me to wait there because they'll need me to take my top off for the EKG anyway. I sit there for 30 minutes, still wondering if he meant to be creepy or if he was trying to be kind and compassionate. Finally, I get up and peek out to the nurse's station to see if they had forgotten about me. Sure enough, I wasn't supposed to be sitting there in a semi-state of undress. They had been calling for me and assumed I had stepped out for a smoke or to make a phone call. Great. I get dressed, they apologize profusely and take me for my EKG.

EKG? For me? Well, my doctor is very thorough and wants to cover all bases, the nurse tells me. We get it done pretty quickly. I'm pronounced healthy as a horse. No comments people! Then, she outlines where to go and what will happen Friday morning. Army of Dad can be with me most of the time, but not all of it. No jewelry, no make-up, no food after midnight Thursday. Got it. Still shaking off the heebie-jeebies from Jesus.