It is nerve block time again, and that means you will be getting stories of how anesthesia makes me say things that I normally wouldn’t say.
Take the event of yesterday for instance:
I had to tell the nurse that I was a few (okay… seven!) days late in getting my period.
Before I go on you need to know a few things.
At this point in the story I have not been given any drugs.
You should also know that during this process of nerve blocks and pain medications, I have been advised that I should not, under any circumstances, become pregnant. Umm…. DUH!
Anyway. Going to go to my nerve block appointment and having to tell them that I had missed my freaking period was number one on my list of things that I didn’t want to do. I knew I would come across as being dumb, irresponsible, and worst of all… A big fat pain in their ass.
So I followed up my “I missed my period” speech with, “I am pretty sure that there is ZERO chance of me being pregnant, but I thought I should tell you guys anyway before I go back into surgery.”
Basically, I wanted to cover my butt. Looking back I should have just told her that we were, in fact, controlling birth and that my period was just jacked up because I am a major stress case with just about one nerve left. But. I said what I said because I didn’t want to have to go into all of that. Plus, I knew that no matter what I said after telling them that I was SEVEN DAYS late that they would make me take a pregnancy test anyway.
So you can imagine my shock and surprise when the nurse replied to my bumbled speech by saying, “Oh well… if you’re sure you’re not pregnant then we just won’t worry about it.”
Hmm. Hind sight is 20-20 and what I should have done was insist that I take the pregnancy test just in case. Instead I said…. wait for it…… NOT. ONE. WORD. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I knew I wasn’t pregnant and I really didn’t want to take the pregnancy test, so I thought (but really, I knew better) that I was in the clear.
Before you ask what the big deal is on taking a pregnancy test, I’ll tell you.
The fact is that Tyson and I are just about positive (and when I say “positive” I mean we are vasectomy positive) that we are not having any more kids. While I am mostly okay with that, I’m sort of not okay with that. Right now I am just freaking sad that we aren’t going to have any more kids. And I am so pissed that it is because of my awful health that we are stopping. So for me to see the one line on a pregnancy test right now is not what I would call fun. It is what I would call mean.
After I was done with Arlene the check-in nurse I was left to read until my turn came.
After about forty five minutes of waiting, Bruce the anesthesia nurse came and gave me the drugs. As he was wheeling me back into surgery everything started getting hazy. And from this point on I don’t remember everything, but I do recall the important things.
My Doctor started asking me a bunch of questions and one of them was regarding pregnancy. I told him that I was “late” and he immediately was annoyed. I instantly went into defense mode and told him that I did tell the check-in nurse that I was “late”, that I use “__noneofyerbizness” for birth control, and that Tyson and I had “done it” x amount of times this month and had controlled birth each. time.
OHMYGOSH! I CANNOT believe that I said all that. I gave him specifics.
Do you see? Do you see what this stuff does to me? It wasn’t only my Doctor that heard all of this either. Bruce the anesthesia nurse heard it and so did the x-ray guy.
Oh. the humiliation.
Long story short, I was wheeled back to pre-op and got to take a pregnancy test. And instead of Scott the nurse just telling me that the test came back negative, he felt the need to show me. Thanks, Scott. I wouldn’t have believed you if you hadn’t shown me the peed on test. I managed to keep the tears inside my eyes at this point and I was so proud of me and all of my control. But when Bruce started to tell me that the next time I was “late” to tell the nurses beforehand, I cut him off and almost (came this. close.) yelled at him that I DID! He sort of chuckled and said, “Oh, that’s Arlene for ya.” And I retorted with a very smart roll of my eyes.
To make this story even more horrifying and humiliating, Sherrie, who took me to the appointment, had to hear me re-tell the story to Tyson….. without any censorship of any of the incriminating details.
Oh yes. Sherrie knows us very well now.
Numbers and all.
Sherrie. I am SO sorry.
Please know that I would never EVER have said those things under normal circumstances.