That's the expression I used when I went to the doctor yesterday, and the way my head feels. I feel like I have a Big Pot full of Doctors that are taking care (or say they are) taking care of me right now. I have the staples - the onions and garlic, that I know, and when I scoop them out things go well. But, some unfamiliar spices or flavors come out other times, and I am not happy with the result. I mean, really? Am I 85 years old that I need someone to specialize in every part of my body? Endocrinologist, OBGYN, Urologist (x2), Interventional radiologist (IR), primary care, and I know I am forgetting a few others.
My problem right now is that when I chose to go to the hospital closer, I had a different grouping of doctors helping me. When I met with my OB yesterday, we were trying to figure out how we can switch over easily when I have the baby, so I can have the proper care while I am at the hospital delivering. We weren't sure we could go to a different doctor after one had ordered us to put in the nephrostomy tube, but I will be having a C-section and while I am at the hospital I can do some things to speed the process of figuring where the stone is that was causing problems, and getting it and the tube OUT (I usually stay there 3 days since it's "MAJOR" surgery, as my mom says.). So, I don't have a date for this baby. I tried to plead my case for a little earlier than 39 weeks (October 8) but I am not sure they want to do that. I have diabetes (baby is big, measuring 2 weeks ahead, but may not be completely developed lung-wise, even with the steroid shots I received, etc.) and we want to keep the baby safe. I get it, and we saw the baby in a sonogram, saw her face, little mouth moving and some practice breathing, and I know I need to keep my eye on that sweet prize. It's all for her. God is in charge, I know! But, the doctor listened, and said they would "discuss me" at the next meeting. I will be back weekly, so I will be hopefully get a date soon. I am going to be spending a lot of time in the car!
*Here comes the Long Story: Last Friday I took the kids to school for orientation, all by myself, I would add. I knew something was wrong with the tube, and knew I was going to have to go in to see the IR that afternoon. My mom came to help, and I drove off to the hospital. Nurses are super sweet, and we go back into a room and they say it's a quick procedure, shoot some contrast in the tube to see what's going on. I had the same doctor and buff nurse who remembered me from the week before, so I was at least very grateful for that.
I am put on a small table, on my side, wrapped in a lead apron, and then covered in a sterile drape: otherwise known as a big plastic tarp to cook me. I had some layers of clothing on, and I was VERY sorry I did that. It.was.sooo.hot. I was trying to peel off layers without interrupting, but I was sure it would be quick and I thought I would just offer it up. No biggie. Doc starts working, tells me there is a kink in the line and they can do a 3 minute change. Okay. Numbing shot on the area and we can do this. More to offer up.
An hour later, the doctor says something is wrong. The quick change isn't possible because there is sediment build up IN the tube, as well as around the tube. He says the change has to be a complete tube change, and he's very sorry. Meanwhile, I am cooking, roasting, baking (one nurse even called me "pig in a blanket" which I did NOT let slide, and he knew it, I gave him such a hard time), and my legs are cramping, and the nurse is fanning me between his running back and forth to the drawers for different size things. It starts to hurt as my kidney is swollen, and that tube is STUCK. He is pushing, pulling, and I am trying really hard to be a good patient. He keeps apologizing, nurse keeps fanning me, and I am praying. 2 hours later, the doctor gets the tube out - and I KNOW he didn't, but it felt like he just yanked the darn thing out. OH. MY. OHMYGOSHTHATHURTSOMUCH and I screamed. I am so embarrassed but I did. It continued to hurt, and I was a mess. The nurses come running in, the doctor asks if I can be sedated and I didn't even have an IV. Nurses shove one in my hand, and start shooting some meds into it, not much help with pain, but it helped to calm me a bit. Just a bit, mind you. My prayers got much louder, and I was a mess. Then, he has to put a new one in, using the same lane into the kidney. yikes. I am totally upset, and he gets it in and then shows me the line he was fighting. Covered in stuff on the outside. No wonder. My sweet Tommy is waiting for me in the room, and I cannot move for the pain. Nurses give us instructions (thankfully!) and want us to come back every 2 weeks to change the tube, either the quick one or the long one. My anxiety went through the roof, and all I could think was please please please put me under! Which, they may just do to keep me okay. Technically, that means 3 more changes. 3.more.times. Hopefully, no more. First one is Friday, a FIRST FRIDAY in the month, so I am pretty sure the Lord will be asking for some sacrifices on His day.
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