Just my luck: CAT SCAN SNAFOO

All I can say is that it was a cluster F@@k.

While sitting in the main waiting room, John - the radiologist, brings me a large bottle, shakes it, pours it in a styrofoam cup and tells me to drink it, then pour the rest of the bottle in and drink it too.

The problem is (and there's plenty of problems), one cup down, one to go, and my gag reflex goes into hyperdrive.  I'm turning in circles, gagging, holding the 'last cup' in my hand.  Staring at it doesn't help. And I'm starting to feel sorry for the others in the room, trying to move away inconspicuously. 

John returns, possibly due to being alerted I was going to spew on everyone, which would have clung to the filth on the floor forevermore.

He led me and Stud to a back room next to the xray room.  We sit together in what appears to be a storage closet with bottles of oxygen, haz-mat containers, and a gurney.   There's just room enough to sit, if we don't wiggle.

John returns with the NEXT bottle of barium and a new styrofoam cup.  The service was fast and efficient.  But when I warned him that I could not, no how, no way, drink my fourth glass, he laughed and walked down the hall and says:  "Just make it to the bathroom if you're going to hurl".

Oh, yes.  I went to the bathroom - and threw the last cup of barium down the toilet.  I know my limits, and I had met them.

When he gets me settled on the bed, he inserts a needle into the fleshy underside of my arm,  THE most painful area in my opinion.

I inform him that he shot through the vein, not IN it.

He pulled back about 1/4", and injected the saline solution - which ran into my arm and under the skin.

He then injected the contrast liquid.  The taste hit the back of my throat, and my ears started burning. . . especially my arm!

I held my breath for 20 seconds and the test was done.

He looked at my arm, RAN out of the room, and returned with an RN who told me I reminded her of Meryl Streep. . .nice distraction ma'am, but my arm is leaking.

He then ran out again, and brought back the hospital administrator to look at my arm and fill out the paperwork on the snafoo.

"Her vein burst, and I stopped the contrast at 100cc, instead of going to the required 150cc"  He said to the admin.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

I'm thinking, but not saying:  "My vein did NOT 'burst', you sliced it with your needle."

So, they said the area will, no doubt, swell (it's the size of an egg and purple right now) and my skin might slough off.  

Just when I had started feeling safe in Floruba. . .

YOU WANT MY POOP??

I hate early mornings.  Early mornings are anything before 10 a.m., and today I was up at 7, fluffing up the girls after spending a night in their Genie bra, running a comb through my hair and heading for the place that wants my blood.

I was number 13 in a long line of people on walkers, others who had no idea where they were, and some who thought it was a line to buy lottery tickets.

Yes.  It's the land of the living dead, and I'm right where I belong.

I'd brought my wonderful Kindle Fire HD, and was playing solitaire when a woman asked if I could get Google.  I said  "Yes, if there's a wifi connection."

She said she wanted to know the last name of a woman who sang the Star Spangled Banner twenty years ago who was named Kate.  Honest.

Everyone said  "KATE SMITH", then resumed facing forward.  Honest.

MY TURN!  I felt special.

I was given a cup and told to 'leave a urine sample', then I was given a much larger cup and told to......."What?"  I asked.

"A FECAL SAMPLE!"  was repeated, as if I was deaf instead of in shock.

Numbers 14 and higher backed away and looked at the ceiling.

Number 12 came back and asked  "Kate Fecal?  I don't think that's the right name."  (okay.  That part is a lie)

They took my blood.  They took my urine sample.  I came home to do the rest.

With a cap solidly screwed on the cup (I hope) we returned and, my husband --Saint Stud, carried the gift inside and left it with the receptionist.

I am SO glad I don't work in a medical laboratory.

THE GENIE BRA review for women only. (shut up coffeypot)

This is NOT an advertisement.  I tried something I've always been curious about and figured I'd give all the women a little information.

Want lift?  Support?  

The Genie bra is the one for you.
  

If you look like this:

If there's nothing to support, it works fine.

If you can run around naked in a t-shirt, and no one knows, then the Genie bra won't let you down.  

(think training bra with nothing to train)

If you have fake boobs, ie:  hard and not going anywhere, the Genie bra will work just fine.

Right now, if anything touches me in the rib cage or abdomen, (shut up coffeypot) it causes pain, so, off to Walmart.

In the "as seen on tv" section, toward the front of the store, they had the AH Bra and the Genie.  

AH bra.  

And it too will work just fine if you're as hard as the mannequin above. 

I'm not.  But all I needed was some modesty coverage and comfort.

I'm now modestly covered and comfortable.

If you've ever wondered, trust your instincts.  It's not going to hold up anything a kleenex wouldn't hold up.

Wearing either one, you're going to look exactly like you would if you were naked in a t-shirt.  So I don't recommend it for wearing in public.  No way in hell.

AND, you can't go by small, medium, or large.  They now come in sizes up to 4X, and, before you gasp, these were made by itty, bitty, little chinese women who think a size small is humongous.  

I had to buy a 3X in the Genie and a 1X in the Ah.

And I'm a 38 C/D.  (shut up coffeepot)

But, they ARE comfortable.  The wider back never rides up, the straps don't fall down, and you rarely feel like tugging or readjusting anything.

YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE PREGNANT!!

I had promised to attend a quilt extravaganza at my friend's church. (yes.  I found a friend) 

She's a retired police detective, but for some reason thinks I'm fantastic.  Therefore, she must not have been a very good detective or she'd know how long my rap sheet is.

After spending the last two days in hydrocodone heaven, I had completely forgotten about it until she called to remind me. ( My thanks to all people who remind me of things I promise to do.)

After pulling on several pairs of shorts:  none of which suddenly fit, I found a pair that had the elastic shot in the waist.  PERFECT!  And off I went.

102 women sitting at tables being served lunch by church men dressed in tuxedo pants, white shirts and bow ties.   Chicken wraps dressed in cream cheese, combined with goat cheese, honey, walnuts and cranraisins.  And a side serving of fruit.  YUM

The ladies were too polite to watch as I injected insulin into my belly, below the tablecloth.

Yes.  I'm fun to take anywhere.

Then I noticed - like Alice in Wonderland after drinking the growth potion, my  elastic waistband pants could no longer cover the growing girth that was spreading out, laying over my lap.

Roxie, the ex-detective, did a double-take and said  "You suddenly look like you're five months pregnant!  Are you okay???"  NOW her detective instincts kicked in.

"Mnn nhnooph"  I answered, trying to breathe while being restrained inside shorts that had morphed into a corset.  I was being garroted by my own britches!

Exit, stage right.

HOME:  HYDROCODONE + LIBRAX + MOANING = me....in a robe.  A very full and flowing house dress as seen on all women in the 1950's who were 70 years old.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm sure hoping the upcoming CT scan shows it's something that can be easily taken care of.  (and what's the chances of that?)  But it can't happen soon enough.

Until then, I leave you with these words:  
"Mnn nhnooph"

THE VISIT WITH THE NEW GASTROENTEROLOGIST

She was adorable.  Sweet.  Kind.  SMART, but not a smart-ass.

She asked questions.  I answered them.  She listened to the answers!

I also used "doctor speak".  For example, she asked if I ever notice red spots on my knees.

I said  "Do you mean Erythema Nodosum?"

"You've done your research and know what you're talking about.  That helps a lot."

"No.  That's just what happens when you spend much of your life in hospitals."

Then we were off to the races.  She knew she could trust my opinions, and she honestly listened to them.

She said  "These are not symptoms that an internal camera should be used with."   I gently wiped a tear as it slid down my satin cheek.  I had been right to refuse  The Bastard Doctor's idiotic suggestion.

THANK YOU FLORUBA for allowing one doctor with common sense to practice here.

To rule out "something wicked this way comes", she requested blood tests and a CT scan with contrast from the Citgo Station.  I'm allergic to the contrast, but she said to advise the tech prior to the IV and they might decide to give me benadryl.

She pressed gently on my left side and said there was a rigid mass next to my pancreas that she needs to rule out as an "Oh, shit" situation  (my words), and if everything IS just scar tissue, she can use these tests as a baseline, in case I do end up in the hospital with another intestinal blockage.

I said:  "I called the ER two weeks ago and they said it would be a 9 hour wait."

"Call the office if it's at night or a weekend, and one of us will admit you to the hospital by phone, then you can go straight in."

GLORY HALLELUJAH and 

HOLY CRAP IN A CATHEDRAL!

I found me a DOCTOR!

I hope she doesn't move to Indiana.

SAINTS BE PRAISED! PIGS CAN FLY!

THE KINDLE VERSION 

AND THE LOOK INSIDE OFFERING FOR

TREADWELL 

HAS BEEN FIXED!!

After phone calls and emails to the publisher, they contacted me on Tuesday to say the Kindle version, and the LOOK INSIDE had been fixed and no more dropped words, dropped sentences, or missed paragraphs remained.

I checked it out myself, then called them (they're on speed-dial) and said  "Look again, buck-o.  It's still a pile of crap and I don't appreciate losing my fan base."

Hey, I don't have a fan base, but they don't know that.

Today, another call, another email.  Again I went and checked.

IT'S FIXED!   If you haven't already purchased the book, you can read 26 pages for free and make up your mind.

If you have a Kindle, it's now safe (I assume) to download it to your device.

If you've already purchased the chopped up Kindle version, contact Amazon and demand the fu(ked up version be replaced immediately - without charge - to your Kindle.

I NEED A LITTLE ADVICE - SINCE I NEVER KNOW WHAT I'M DOING

Being the most un-savvy person where computers are concerned, I've decided to format my next book myself and offer it on Amazon.com for FREE.

So. . . I'm working on a sequel AND a prequel at the same time.  Yeah.  Good luck on that, Dana.  

I want to offer the prequel Kindle version at no cost, so that people can read about the young Nelda Pike before she became involved with drug dealers and kidnappers in TREADWELL.

Then, if they want more, they can buy the first book of the series: TREADWELL.  

For those who have already read Treadwell, they will find the prequel very interesting and comedic, to say the least.

While trying to learn the 'tricks of the trade' where Kindle formatting, uploading, and getting a copywrite are concerned, I'll place some of the prequel on here, and each of you will get to add your own suggestions, thumbs up and thumbs down, with me listening to every word you have to offer.