“Um, I’m sorry, but I asked for Dr. McDreamy. |
(Nurse for pre-op testing over phone, while I am driving in my car, with 12-year-old) “Describe for me in your own words, what procedures you are having during your surgery next week”
(Me) “I’d prefer not to if it’s all the same to you.”
(my 12-year-old) “Just say it. I know everything.”
(Nurse) “Yes, well I think you understand the procedures given what you have already said. We can leave it at that.”
(Nurse drawing blood)“We usually have you sign in writing that you cannot be pregnant…but you’re 50, so we don’t need to.”
(Me) “Hey, thanks for calling that out. You didn’t have to rub it in…I could have just told you I’m down a uterus and called it a day!”
(my 12-year-old) “So what exactly are they going to do to you? I mean, where are they going to cut you?”
(Me) “Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to know…and I’m tired of being asked.”
(pre-admission phone call) “I just want to make sure that you are getting everything you want.” (laughter) “I mean, that you understand what is going to be done.”
(Me) “Oh yeah, I can’t wait. It’s beyond my wildest dreams and I could not ask for more! Please sir, may I have some more?”
(my younger brother)“So who is going to take care of you when you get home?”
(Me) “I’ll have the kids and they will pitch in and help.”
(my younger brother)“You’re F’ed.”
Laughter…(me) “I think you might be right!”
M