Tag Archives: Fun

Working Overtime

I lay on the exam table ready for my gynecological exam.  The doctor stood next to me and began feeling around my throat. Wrong body part doctor, I thought.

“Did you know you have a lump here?” he asked, gently palpating the base of my throat.

“No,” I said.

“You need to have it checked out right away.”

“Well, I just started my summer term. Can it wait six weeks?”

“OK, six weeks and no longer.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. At 20 years old, I still hadn’t outgrown the invulnerable phase. By the time I dressed, I had already pushed it out of my mind. And then as I passed his open office door I heard him already on the phone discussing my case with the surgeon. Wow, I thought, he’s really worried.

I was admitted to the hospital on a Thursday afternoon, the day before the term ended. I had been allowed to do my open-book psychology final in the hospital. I sat cross-legged on the bed and did my test. My then husband would drop off the test in the morning after I was taken to surgery.

After the surgery, I came to and remember reaching out my hand for help. My husband was sitting there and spoke to me.

“It’s all over. You’re in your room now.”

I returned to oblivion.

I came to again, this time with nausea and the accompanying fear of choking to death as I was flat on my back and couldn’t move. I tried to speak and couldn’t. I reached out my hand again and there was no one there. I will never forget the terror I felt for those few seconds before the nurse appeared.

I went home Monday after the stitches were pulled. I never felt any pain. The diagnosis: Benign encapsulated thyroid tumor. Half my thyroid was left behind somewhere in that huge building called a hospital. I was lucky.

Fast forward a few years. I am now a nursing student and observing in OR. I get to see my surgeon in action. I am so excited. They set up a step stool for me; I stand 5’2” on a good day. Now I can see clearly.

I can see clearly how his hands are shaking and trembling all over the place. I focus on that and mentally wrap my hands around my throat in the universal sign of a choking victim.

Those hands, those hands were in my throat! It’s a wonder I didn’t cave and fall face forward into the patient’s open abdomen.

~~~

I share this (abridged) story from my work in progress about my nursing life only because my thyroid has taken center stage again. What’s left of it is apparently working overtime. I feel a little cheated because if my metabolism is revved up, as my labs reflect, I shouldn’t have any extra pounds to work off.

1050UBs LifeCore Fitness

1050UBs
LifeCore Fitness

But, alas, I do, and I have a new BFF to help me with that.

Yesterday, I had about a gallon of blood removed. At least it felt that way. The phlebotomist even asked if I was OK before the penultimate tube was filled. I was.

My PCP had wanted labs. I said let’s check my thyroid, but did he include a full profile? No. So I had to go back and it coincided with the regular labs for my rheumy.

In the past, I’ve been treated for hypo and hyperthyroidism, but for decades my labs have been normal. I’ve been scanned within an inch of my life, literally. That’s how close that behemoth of a machine feels next to my throat.

I’m sure that will come next, but for now I will concentrate on the Dick Dale concert we will attend tonight. We’re spending the night in Fort Lauderdale and throwing caution to the winds.

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And Did You See That Pass?

After my husband spent a wild day and a half in meetings, alternately being patted on the back for a job well done and being pressured into achieving new goals for the coming year and beyond, while I spent that same time snuggled up in a cozy hotel room with all the amenities, we drove to St. Augustine where we had a fantabulous time that ended all too quickly.

And I know this isn’t a sports blog, but we realized we would be lifting off homeward right at Super Bowl kick-off. But we were on JetBlue, with our own individual TVs in front of us. At one point during the second quarter, we had a slightly bumpy ride. I don’t think anyone noticed. There was absolute silence in the cabin, everyone seemingly focused on the screen in front of them, earbuds in place.

We landed right before halftime and left our seats 30 seconds too early, merely to wait in the aisle, and missed Seattle scoring a touchdown. At least that’s what we were told at the baggage carousel. We beat ourselves up over that, then raced to our car, hopped in and listened to the third quarter on the way home.

We got there in time to see the last quarter. And right at the end, after that totally awesome flippety-floppety fumbling catch, we were on the edge of our seats, drinks suspended halfway to our mouths, breath held and then, and then . . .  did you see that pass?????

Whoever called it, and they know who they are, can probably relate to the saying on this T-shirt I ran across on my travels.

tshirtmaya

 

Dancing Away, Away, Away

Wouldn’t you know it. Just when I get in the mood to go dancing, my foot starts acting up. I haven’t been out dancing in a few months, what with my trip to see my new grandchild and then the holidays, and then all my deadlines cropping up. Every time my husband brought it up, I was like, “No, not tonight.” And no, I didn’t have a headache.

Now I have both a foot ache and an itch to go dancing. I can dance fine, at home, barefoot. But, I don’t think I can go out that way. I’ve been relegated to using my daughter’s left-behind flip-flops for the past few days. Normally, I can’t stand anything between my toes, but I have to suck it up.

Today I had to go visit the vampires in preparation for my rheumatology appointment next week. Gotta keep tabs on all those pesky little numbers that tell you if your meds are helping or hindering. I didn’t want to go out in flip-flops, as nice as these are. So, I tried my tennis shoes and wallah! they didn’t hurt! It made me fall further in love with those shoes.

They cradle my feet and I can walk without having to favor my right foot. The foot is still sore, but tolerable. As long as nothing presses down on the top of it. As happened the other night in my sleep, when I pressed it against the bed. Almost jumped out of my skin, let alone the bed. Next week I’ll consult with my rheumatologist, see if I can play with the steroids some more. Anything to avoid the podiatrist. I go to the doctor enough already.

Now I just want to go dancing.There’s nothing like losing yourself to the music and leaving your earthly cares behind. The beat pounding in your ears, the music flowing up from the floor through your body, filling your lungs, racing through your bloodstream. The ice clinking in your drink as you sway, sway, sway, unable to stand still. Letting go, you close your eyes and are transported away, away, away. So far away you don’t want to come back.

As JLo says:

Dance the night away
Live your life and stay young on the floor
Dance the night away

Tonight we gon’ be it on the floor

Well, not tonight exactly, but this weekend maybe. I’ll have to figure out what shoes to wear with my slinky little dress. It can’t be my tennis shoes. But then again, maybe I’ll start a new trend?