*I’m currently in the middle of a sinus flare-up so if there’s a lot more writing mistakes than usual, it’s because I didn’t really bother to proofread this post since my face feels like it’s going to explode. But I’m sure none of you are as critical as my douchey brother-in-law. 😉
I had sinus surgery in September 2009 but I’ll spare you the boring and bloody details. Two months later, I felt like my face was going to explode and it was mostly on the left side of my nose. When I went to see the ENT doctor, he said that there were scar bands that he needed to clip. *shivers*
It felt like an ice pick was being scraped up my nose and I wanted to knee his assistant in the balls. The assistant wasn’t doing the clipping but my doctor, lets call him Dr. Suave, was too damn cute for a ball smashing. Plus he was really sweet to my daughter.
He put me on antibiotics, which didn’t help, and some pain meds. It gradually went away. Then it flared up again in January. Same thing with the ice pick up the nose but this time I didn’t care that Dr. Suave was so cute. I wanted his damn balls in a vise grip.
I’ve had six or seven of these awful sinus flare-ups since and went to a new ENT doctor where we now live. The ENT doctor I have is awesome. I couldn’t have asked for better. What’s really cool was when he put the numbing spray up my nose, he actually waited for it to take effect before using the scope, unlike the other Dr.’s I’ve seen. Wow! What a concept. heh
Dr. Cool told me that while the right side had only a few scar bands, there was a “significant amount” on the left side and I will need to have surgery. Crap!
He said that I could have it done in his office but with all that I’ve been through these past few years (I’ve had several medical nightmares when dealing with doctors while in D.C. and these doctors were the cause of most of them) he thinks it would be better for me to be put under because he wants me to be as comfortable as possible.
A doctor wants me to be as comfortable as possible? I haven’t heard one say that in a loooong time, if ever.
I was beginning to believe that they took pleasure in torturing me by a misdiagnosis, an unnecessary surgery caused by the misdiagnosis that kept me in the hospital for a week when my little girl was only 14 weeks old that turned me into a basketcase since I had to be away from my babeh, being bullied by a douchebag doctor because of his misdiagnosis that would have caused another unneccessary surgery that I refused, and on and on. But that’s for another post.
I had a CT scan a few days before Christmas and dealt with a bitchy woman who looked like Uncle Eddie’s wife from the National Lampoon Vacation movies and had on a Christmas scarf. Like that would cover her crazy.
She took me back into a second waiting room so I could wait even longer for my scan. It’s like they think you won’t notice how much time suckage they’re causing you by putting you into a second waiting room.
I was waiting so long that I started to think they forgot about me. So I went roaming through the halls trying to find someone. The bitchy lady appeared and asked me what I was doing. I told her I thought they forgot about me and she just scowled and said someone will be with me shortly. Uh huh. She said that 40 minutes earlier.
While I waited, she was awful to this woman in a wheelchair. Her husband was with her and needed to help her get into a gown. Miss See you next Tuesday wouldn’t let him. We were the only people in the second waiting room and there were separate changing areas. Finally, she said okay to letting this woman’s hubby help his wife after they had to put up a fight with this horrible woman.
So, I got the CT scan because Dr. Cool wants to know if there’s anything else wrong. Now I’m just waiting to hear back from him and find out when the surgery is. I’ll probably call him today though since I’m in agony. I hope it’s a very quick recovery.
Last March, I had to have abdominal surgery to correct five freaking hernias that were caused from the surgeons who did my c-section. The recovery time was longer than we expected so my mother-in-law had to come out to “help” since we were desperate.
I wasn’t allowed to pick up my daughter and that made it really difficult to care for her. When I went against Dr.’s orders a few days later and picked her up, I felt this painful tear in my stomach. It was so bad that I had to see the doctor the next day. Luckily, everything was fine but he scolded me and said I really needed to take it easy, rest, and under no circumstances should I pick up my daughter for the next two weeks or else I might cause some real damage.
My mother-in-law ended up making everything worse and had me working my ass off since not only did I have to look after my daughter, even though that’s why she was supposed to be there, but I also had to babysit her since she seems to have forgotten or has never known how to take care of kids (which is what my hubby thinks).
Case in point: letting my daughter play with a big plastic band (it held her sippy cup to her high chair) that my daughter would put around her neck while in her playpen (Oy!), putting her hot tea close to the edge of the coffee table (double Oy!), letting my daughter play with writing pens, and putting her 20 or so vitamins and meds on the coffee table where my daughter could get to them (grrrr).
I tried to be as nice as possible, I was heavily medicated after all, when asking my mother-in-law if she could find a different place to keep her vitamins and meds. I told her that it really made me nervous since the little hummingbird could easily get to them.
She turned to my then 11 month old daughter and said “Your mommy doesn’t like where I put my medication so *sigh* I guess I’ll have to move them since she’s overreacting”.
She didn’t though and I would have to rush downstairs every morning so I could put them on the kitchen counter, out of the way of little hands. It was more like a very slooow walk since I felt like I had the stomach muscles of Gumby.
Another thing she did was wash my daughter’s bottles and sippy cups with dirty dish water. *gag* At that point she had been with us only a few days and I was already pulling my hair out. I hobbled my way downstairs to the kitchen. That’s when I saw her “washing” my daughter’s sippy cups and bottles.
She had an egg for breakfast everyday and she would put the pan in the sink with a little water in it. When I came down to see her “washing” my daughter’s things, she was dipping a sponge into the greasy, dirty water in the frying pan that had bits of leftover egg floating in it and then proceeded to “clean” my daughter’s sippy cups. *gag*
I stood there waiting for her to use a not so new invention called soap but she never did. She just put the cups on the bottle rack. I knew I had to say something and fast because I could only stand for a few minutes at a time or else I would have just waited until she left the kitchen and washed them myself.
It felt so awkward having to tell a woman in her 50’s that when cleaning the little hummingbird’s things, we use soap. Her response? She said a lot of things sure have changed since she had kids. What the what?! I know they had soap in the 1970’s. I just want to knock on my MIL’s head and ask “Helloooo, is anyone home?”
A few days later, she put potato peels down the garbage disposal after I told her not to. She said “I didn’t put all of them down there, just a few to see what would happen”. Guess who had to fix the sink and unclog the disposal? Yep, me and only a week post-op when I was supposed to be in bed, resting. I told her we just need to wait until the hubby came home but she insisted we had to do it right then.
At that time, I couldn’t even get out of bed by myself, but there I was using a plunger for what seemed like forever while she went off to do who knows what. After I fixed it, she came back into the kitchen and said “See, I knew we could fix it ourselves”.
And guess who had to fix the dishwasher when a certain someone broke that? Yep. I was bending down, trying to turn off the water under the sink and moving everything so it wouldn’t get wet from a leak and she went off again, leaving me to do it all. The pain from doing that was so bad, I thought I would die. This abdominal surgery was more painful than the botched c-section I had.
She stayed with us for 12 days and it was 12 days of hell. I was so drained and in more pain than ever by the time she left because she ran me ragged. Not even 2 weeks later, she flew back
on her broom with my father-in-law for my daughter’s first birthday. It took all I had not to strangle her.
I could spend all day writing a list of dumb shit she did and how crazy I went from her complete lack of common sense. Let’s hope my hubby and I don’t get desperate and have her come out to “help” this time around.