September 20, 2006
Rhapsody in Pain, fin

 

While going through the last of my notes related to the surgery, I found one last one that I forgot to include previously. It just adds to the mystery of just what the hell these people do to us when we're sedated in the operating room. Really, they could do anything. They could dress us up, dance us around, make us tables for the party food...god only knows. I was (and am still) alarmed at the things I found on my body afterwards...things that were never explained to me --both before and after the surgery-- and almost don't WANT to know. Especially if it involves any kind of violence...like maybe we're their anger management tools "...pissed off at your wife? Someone cut you off in traffic? PUNCH THE PATIENT!"

So the last thing I noticed: sticky stuff on my eyes. Gross...I just saw how bad that looked. Let's be adults now and agree that my eyes were obviously taped shut, though they never mentioned that as a possibility and the nurses I asked afterward? Couldn't tell me. Nobody knew - including me at first. I thought my eye was twitching, possibly a result of the surgery or the meds. Each time I'd blink, one of my eyes would stay open while the other closed. I noticed this while being moved back to my room and while switching from the operating gurney to my bed. I kept asking George and the nurse "hey...is this normal? do you see this?? what IS this??" I finally reached up to feel it, to point it out to George and the nurse, who were treating my contention of Serious Eye Problems as the ravings of a drugged woman and that's when I realized it was sticky; that my eyelid was catching on the glue from the tape that had apparently been there shortly before. I get that sometimes they have to tape your eyes shut, especially if you have trouble breathing, as I apparently did, though why that's related, I don't know but I just have to ask...one last time: what THE HELL DID THEY DO TO ME!? and was any or all of it spelled out in all those pages of paperwork they had me sign (but only AFTER I was pumped full of drugs)!?

Surgery...this country's most widely accepted scam...

Ohhh, leave me alone. I'll be over it soon. And besides... bitching = fun!

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The completion of the medical saga will be played out through the emails that have gone back and forth over the last week and a half.

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From Gracie's brother:

Fukna... (fuckin’a in case it didn’t make sense). You better yet? No calls... no email... no gory details... sheesh... like I’m a freakin' Leper or something....

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My response:

I'm sorry. Nothing personal, seriously. It's just that I'm feeling so crappy and the details are SO gross that I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hear them.

But SINCE YA ASKED...mwwwaaa-hahahahaha!! Here ya go:

lessee...somehow between when I went INTO surgery and when I came out, not only did something odd and sticky (and square-shaped, just to keep your mind outta the gutter) get stuck to my thigh, something that I was not told about ahead of time, but still there remains the rectangular outline and angry red marks to prove its existence, but --get this-- I also ended up having a blood vessel POP in my eye (which means in my left eye, from the iris to the inner corner of my eye, there is nothing but blood red stain instead of white, which is a super special treat for George, because if it's juuuust dark enough? I look cross-eyed, which he finds endlessly entertaining). Also? There is a very odd, painful, and completely inexplicable BRUISE on my FOREHEAD. the HELL? WHAT do they DO to people during SURGERY? what on EARTH could happen during GALL BLADDER SURGERY that would necessitate BRUISING the --FOREHEAD-- of a girl who is STRAPPED to a TABLE (much like the 1990 c-section) like jesus h. christ?

Moving on...cause I will go batty (battIER) if I dwell on THAT crazy crap too long...but let me just say that I better NOT be pregnant!

I can't sleep more than 2 hours at a time, no matter what I do or how tired i am and buh-LIEVE me, I am sooooo freakin' tired. I am feeling a whole lot better than the last few days, but still not up to par. My stomach is still bloated as hell with the carbon dioxide (i soooo want to type monoxide even though I know it's wrong. hellloooo percocet!!) they used to inflate me (as though I NEEDED any more inflating!) to get the gall bladder out, so I'm like a very pregnant person or a heavily drinking redneck with a rock-hard beer belly. It's ridiculous. And so distended that I can't even sit up straight. I'm having to type this in fits and starts just so I can breathe. Speaking of which, I am finally able to take deep breaths today, which is a far cry from the last 3 days, but still not perfect. Going up the stairs winds me, so I've got a bit of a ways to go, I guess.

Oh, and let's not forget the explosive diarrhea 4 to 5 times per day, regardless of whether I eat or not, or WHAT I eat (or not) but what TRULY makes it a treat? Is the fact that, not only because of the surgery and stitches and staples and weird spinal defect, but also because of how I've had to lay the last few days, my back is totally locked up, so I can't twist right to wipe my own explosive ASS. Well...at least not EASILY like before. Don't worry, I found a way...there was NO way I was going to ask George for help with THAT, nope, no siree!! But each trip to the potty takes a minimum of 30 minutes (and usually a less-than-enjoyable shower afterward simply because I feel so gross and not normal.)

See? Who would want to hear about that? I'm so glad you asked, though. ;-)

Seriously, thanks for caring. It really means a lot to me. Fuckna.

Take care o' you.

Gracie

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Another email from sister-in-law:

I looked for an e-card that said something along the lines of "So, you're gallbladder-free" or one with a pic of a wishing well that simply said "get well," but no such luck. I'll keep looking. Damn...I should work for Hallmark.

Soooo glad all went well and you were able to have the laser surgery. We were going to call last night after you got home, but weren't sure if you'd be resting and didn't want to wake you -- seeing as how you got so much rest in the hospital an all...

If you are checking email (which I'm sure you are out of boredom), let me know how you are. Otherwise, if you don't get this for days, we'll call and check on you.

Let me know if you need anything -- food, magazines, whatever. I can deliver, although I don't come with the same guarantee as Domino's. I will NOT be there in 30 minutes or less.

Much love,
Me

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my response:

Thank you so much. I'm hanging in there. Truthfully, I hurt and feel like crap, but while I was there sharing a room with that (odd) woman (she'd been there 13 days and was still a wreck) and the people I saw while walking around after the surgery, not to mention your brother and the torture he went through, I know I have it easy.

George is home today taking care of me and dealing with the AC guys who are putting in our new unit (awesome first day home...without AC...joy! Thank GOD for drugs!) so I'm okay...no needs.

And yes...I am unbelievably bored, but I'm trying to get as much sleep as possible and when I'm awake, I try to move around and am watching all the 9/11 coverage...laughter hurts, so it's a good day to watch sad stuff...lessens the pain and makes me thankful.

I'm still retardedly melancholy..have been for a few days. An example: my dorky butt couldn't get to sleep the night before surgery without writing "sob! Goodbyeeee!" letters. but I got so tired with the pre-surgery meds they were pumping into me, so (god...so embarrassing) only George and The Kiddo got personal letters. The last one was to Everyone I Love! *cringes at it all*

So ridiculous.

Thanks for the offer to bring me stuff (in 30 minutes or more!). I should be okay, but it's nice to know the offer is out there if I need it.

Talk to you soon,

Gracie

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her response:

Now I'm no doctor, but I'm thinking that the 9/11 coverage may not be the best medication for your blues. And where the HECK is my damn goodbye letter? Geez.

I think pizza and a chick flick is what the doctor ordered -- not tragedy TV. Maybe have George set the parental control chip on your TV to filter out all news stations. So, porn equals acceptable; news equals off-limits.

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my response:

mmmm pizza. i wish. well...i sorta wish. I'm finally hungry again, but everything tastes like ass. i can only imagine what the grease on the pizza would do to me right about now. in the hospital after tasting just the beef broth? holy crap. My whole stomach went into nasty spasms. I had part of a croissant yesterday and George made me a scrambled egg and wheat toast for a late dinner and I handled that okay, but he's in there right now making ribs for dinner and I don't think I'll be able to resist them...I will likely regret it.

WHY do I feel the need to share so much superfluous and god-awful-boring health info with you?? what IS that??

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From Gracie's brother:

Ya better bitch?!

George didn’t call us last night, so we didn’t know if you got to go home or not. Figured that we shouldn’t call, just in case you were trying to rest. Thought about calling this morning at 6 a.m. when I was leaving for work, but again, figured it wouldn’t be appreciated ;-)

Just wondering if you’re doing better, if everything is good. Luhju

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My response:

This is a picture of my eye. Sadly, this is a marked improvement from earlier in the week. At least now you can see white and there isn't that big bubble of crimson grossness that was there in the beginning. Shudder. Also, George has finally stopped giggling each time I look at him, as I look less and less cross-eyed as the blood dissipates. This = FUN!

Hope you're eating spaghetti sauce! Love ya!

Gracie

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Gracie's brother's response to eye mail:

Ewwwwwwwwwww, ya cross-eyed freak!

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Gracie's sister-in-law's response to eye mail:

That's a good-lookin' eye. In fact, soooo good-lookin' that I think you should post this pic for money. There's a crazed group of excited ocularphiliacs YEARNING for a peek at this.

Sorry.

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Random Note to Nobody in Particular:

holy SHIT...the ITCHING!!!!!

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The next is an email I sent to a basket company after a disturbing delivery. I won't mention the company name because as soon as they received my email, they called me and apologized profusely and insisted on sending another basket (I said it wasn't necessary) and promised that it wasn't their policy to have employees behave such as the one below and thanked me for alerting them to the issue. Therefore, I don't think they deserve to have their name negatively plastered on the web.

To Whom It May Concern,

While I loved the basket I received, I think you should be aware of my experience, as it has soured my opinion of your company and I can't imagine I'm the only person who has been treated (and feels) this way. If I were the owner of a company such as yours, I would certainly want to know.

I recently had surgery and my husband's company thoughtfully decided to send me a 'Get Well' basket and chose your company. I received a call Monday, September 18, at 11:32 a.m. from a man (Caller ID showed it as [name] - [phone number]). He didn't identify himself, the company, the reason for his call, and wasn't the least bit polite. He said "I got delivery. What's your zip code?" Startled, I gave it and he replied with "Gimmee directions from [local street]." I was getting increasingly uncomfortable and asked him who he was and what this was about. He said "Gift basket." and nothing more. I was pretty surprised at his attitude and lack of professionalism, but since I'd been receiving flowers for several days, I figured (and hoped) it was safe. I gave him directions to my house and he hung up. I was pretty tired, but stayed awake and in my living room to make sure I didn't miss him.

SIX HOURS later, I still hadn't received the delivery. I knew I hadn't missed it because I'd been camped out in the recliner by the front door since before the man called. Finally, at 5:20 p.m., I still hadn't received a delivery and I was exhausted and in desperate need of sleep, so I went through Caller ID, located the number of the person who'd called me that morning and phoned him, asking if he could give me an estimate on delivery. He claimed to have already delivered the package. I assured him that wasn't possible, as I'd been within 10 feet of my door for the last 6 hours. He continued to repeat variations of "No. I deliver" several times until I suggested that he may have sent it to the wrong address. He then said that he left it outside. I asked why he would do that; he called me...knew I was home, why not come to the door? Even if he wasn't interested in human contact, why not at least knock to alert me to its presence? He said "I don't knock" which baffled me. I opened my front door and there was no package there. I relayed this to him. He said again that he left it outside. I looked further and saw that he left it on the bottom step of my very long stairway (30 steps). Not only that, but in the 80 degree heat. I would think that if you are delivering a Get Well basket, it may occur to the delivery person that the resident juuuust may be sick and shouldn't be hiking up and down 30 stairs to collect a large basket. Especially so in my case, as I had just had my body cut open and things removed. Granted, he didn't know of my surgery, but in your business, isn't it a possibility that this could be the case? At any rate, I had to find someone to bring the basket inside and while it was a nice presentation with lovely contents, it was ruined due to both the attitude of your employee and the fact that all the food was MELTED (see attached photo for one example).

melted chocolate from basket

I have to say, I'm pretty offended. I think this is unacceptable. What should have been a lovely gift has been completely discounted due to customer no-service. Not only was the delivery not made within business hours, but I wouldn't have even gotten to it to save the few unmelted items had I not been exhausted and in need of sleep and finally called the man to inquire about the delivery. Both times I spoke to him, he was rude, unprofessional, insulting, and inconsiderate. Not only will I take this into consideration when I need to have something delivered and am choosing companies to give my business to, but I can't in good conscience keep this information from the people who used your service. I sincerely hope that this isn't how your company operates, at least not intentionally. I hope that rather than being a condoned method of business, this was instead a clueless delivery person, unschooled in professionalism and courtesy. How much different would this experience have been had someone taken the time to educate your staff member? A 15 minute class instructing delivery people in the following, simple practices:

A) Politely identify themselves when calling a recipient for directions (or use mapquest.com);

B) Alert them that even though they're asking for directions as though they're just down the street and possibly lost, that it may be upwards of 6 hours before they arrive;

C) Even if you can't be bothered to deliver the gift in person, knock or ring the doorbell to alert the homeowner to its presence;

D) Don't leave a perishable gift in direct sunlight, ruining the gift and wasting the giver's money;

E) If you must leave the gift outside, at least put it near the door and out of public view, if possible (which is the case at my residence. there was shade and a hidden corner he could have left it in, delaying the melting by at least some time). finally,

F) If you've left a gift without knocking or ensuring that the homeowner is aware of its presence, perhaps leave a sticker on the door or window or at least telephone the resident to let them know you've left it so they can call a relative, friend or neighbor to assist them in retrieving it, since your delivery people can come juuuuuust far enough to set it down, but can't go the extra 8 feet to give it to us, before it's completely ruined.

I'm sorry to be so harsh. But I see this lack of pride and customer service everywhere these days and it's disheartening. We're still paying exorbitant costs for services, yet we are receiving less than a tenth of the service to go along with our hard earned cash as we used to.

Sincerely,

Gracie

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I read the letter above to George before sending it...which I often do when I'm sending a letter to a company about crappy treatment. I sometimes go overboard (shocking, I know) and he helps me reel in the piss-off if I've gone too far. When I was done with the letter part and was satisfied that I'd explained the situation adequately, I then mentioned how I signed it:

Gracie: "I signed it the same way they addressed it (a bit different than normal), so they'd know who it was... and ... well... so they can just ignore the opportunity to improve their customer service practices aaaand... forward it directly to the delivery ass-clown and he can just come and kill me while you're at work tomorrow."

George: "Nah...he'd have to call for directions first...then totally fuck up the delivery of your murder."

Gracie: "No shit, huh? He'd just stand outside at the bottom of the stairs, with a knife, of course, wandering around in circles..."

George: *as the delivery person* "Soooner or later, they're gonna open this door! Then I'll get em!"

Hehe. Sooner or later, my incisions are going to rip open and cause me to BLEED to death, with the way George makes me laugh.

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Someone Arrived Here Searching For....

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