So, I had a procedure today to determine what’s going on with my GI. The news is good; with some minor adjustments in diet and the addition of a medication that binds liquid, it should be totally managable. I’ve been on that medication before with no side effects, so this is about 99% positive. (The only real downside is that I’m going to have to pay a lot more attention to the way my GI reacts to things, and may have to be more careful about substances like caffeine)
But to get to the good news, I had to make it through the procedure. They gave me a combination of an opiate (to minimize ‘discomfort’ and sedate somewhat) and versed (to borrow my doctor’s words, “to make you forget”). I remember things clearly up until the second dose of versed…and then I woke up in the recovery area. I’ve heard of people having all kinds of bad experiences on versed, but this is the second time I was dosed with it, and all things being equal, it wasn’t all that nasty for me. (Though I did have a reaction to something the first time that had me throwing up for a couple of days, I think that may have been my oh-so-delicate system’s response to the physical stuff they were doing, not the drug.) I apparently take rather a lot to be knocked out – two to four times the standard initial dose.
There was some minor stress and confusion today. I didn’t think about the fact that I was going to be knocked out and someone else was needed to mind poor Hudson. The fiance had headed out for a walk and I couldn’t get him on his cellphone. For a while it looked like one of the nurses was going to hang on to Hudson in the room with me, which would have worked out okay. I was really impressed that no one seemed upset or annoyed or difficult about Hudson, even though I’d managed to make quite an unexpected imposition. Granted, this hospital has always been totally awesome about the service dog.* Their only concern was making sure that everything was handled in a way that kept the pooch comfortable, and the nurses were willing to totally go out of their way to take care of us – they were great when I explained minimizing interaction with him for the benefit of our partnership, which I’ve found a lot of dog-friendly places have issue with, but not here. In the end, though, my doctor was running so late that the particular nurse who had volunteered to hang on to Hudson was going to be off shift. They discovered that my fiance was in the waiting room, though, so he was able to take Hudson.
Poor fiance was worried that it might be like that instance last summer when the ER barred Hudson, but it was really just a case of trying to keep the stress on the dog the lowest. At least if he was with the fiance, he was being left with someone familiar to him, and his second favorite person in the world. Apparently Hudson periodically whined while I was away – poor pooch. That seems to be his typical response, though. He doesn’t like being away from me. I think sometimes he worries about what might happen while he’s not there to watch over me. The fiance occasionally petted him when he whined, and apparently Hudson took that as a sign that they were going to me, because he stood up looking at the door he’d gone through when the fiance took him back to the waiting room.
Anyhow, so everything went well. We grabbed an early dinner and had a brief stop in a store I enjoy to get a treat for later. We got home and…well, they warn you that you aren’t to drive or make major life or business decisions, and I can quite tell why. I’ve felt kind of…floaty…ever since, and I think I got dosed with the medications about 5 1/2 hours ago. My head is fuzzy, and it takes longer for things to make sense than usual. And oh, the bed felt so good to lie down in. I spent a few hours curled up in bed reading mostly because bed felt so GOOD. Just comforting and the right temperature and soft and…nice. (I’m spoiled and have very nice sheets and a thick memory foam topper, oh yes I do. I love them very, very, very much.)
I’m definitely not entirely back to myself. I’m…here, but I’m drugged. Not in an entirely unpleasant way, but everything feels just a little bit surreal.
…I probably should have put off writing the IT guy about my request for a listserv for a project until tomorrow, but at least I had the fiance read it first. Oh well. Worst he can say is no, I guess, and then a friend of mine has said he’ll find someone to host it if the school won’t.
*Almost all of my doctors are at this hospital, and the worst thing anyone has ever said about him is either that he startled them or that he’s in the way and needs to move to a different spot in the room. They are always friendly and positive about his presence, and never once has anyone suggested that I shouldn’t have him with me. Today was no exception – everyone loved him and wanted to help and even listened when I explained the ‘can not pet or interact’ rules, much as they wanted to love on him. The way the hospital staff have responded to Hudson is part of why I ❤ that hospital and have everything there, even though it’s halfway across town. I go where I am welcomed, you know? It also helps that they consistently treat me as a person, not just a medical question or a disability. The way this hospital acts? This is real access, this is real accomodation. This is me being a person with dignity and rights and intelligence and value and individuality in their eyes.
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