Ah, finally an almost quiet moment to continue the tale of George.
Which means I expect my husband to come down the stairs, wanting the computer, any moment now. Because that's just the way it seems to go in this household. ;-)
After getting changed and packed up, Dh left me in the waiting room of the emergency while he brought the van around to pick me up. He'd used a parkade this time and, much to his shock, had to pay $25 for the four hours it was there. Keep in mind that, in the downtown parkades a few blocks away, they charge a maximum of $14 or so a day. So that was an unexpected hit. All the hospitals have really expensive parking like this, I've heard, so we knew it would be high, but sheesh!
I was feeling almost normal by then. The last dose of painkillers may or may not have worn off by then. I wasn't feeling any pain, which was the important part. Well enough to leave the waiting room and wait for Dh outside. Ah, sweet fresh air!
Dh dropped me off at home, where Eldest came out to make sure I was able to get up the stairs okay, while he went on to pick up my prescription for painkillers. He was laughing at me about having to take suppositories until I pointed out that he'd be the one ... applying them, shall we say. It's a good thing we buy latex gloves in bulk for when Eldest needs to top up her colour (her hair is bright blue at the moment).
The girls were doing the dishes when I got home (they're so sweet!) and Youngest promptly glommed herself onto me in a giant hug. :-) I spent the next while sitting at the computer, which had me facing the kitchen, and regaled them with all that had been happening in the last while. I also sent emails to family to let them know I was home and telling them more than we could pass on through text messages and facebook status updates. I found out later on that my sister, who is on dial-up and had connection problems for a while, wasn't actually able to get any of the messages I'd sent until I was already home. Dh was home with my prescription soon though. It was covered 100% by his insurance, which was nice.
The family took care of everything for me - including making sure I had something to eat pretty much as soon as I got home. It had been some 18 hours since I'd eaten that lonely little hunk of pork chop I'd managed to have before heading to the hospital. And water. Lots and lots of water. I was feeling pretty dehydrated again by then!
I was completely exhausted. I didn't want to go for a nap, as I figured it would mess up my sleep patterns, but in the end I just couldn't stay away. I made up a pile of pillows so I could sleep reclined, as I had in the hospital, since lying flat even for a little while had caused problems. I slept for a solid four hours. What bliss! No weird guy yelling all the time. No interruptions from people wanting to poke and prod at me. No test after test after test.
I so needed that nap! It ended up not messing me up, either, as I found myself going to bed early, too. Well, early for me, which means at about midnight or so. Dh tried to set up a better incline for me - one that didn't use his body pillows, which he needs because of his back injuries. It didn't work, unfortunately, and I ended up sleeping with Youngest. She didn't mind at all. :-)
The next day, Saturday, I was feeling almost completely normal. The only thing that reminded me of my ordeal was stiff and sore muscles on my entire left side. Go figure! *L* By Sunday, even that was gone!
On the Friday, we called the office of a gynecologist I was recommended to. Actually, Dh tried to call while I was going down for my nap, but they had to talk to me directly. We called a bit too soon, though. They hadn't received my file yet. The receptionist took down my info and said she'd call me back.
That call back came on Monday morning. Early! They had an opening the next morning. Could I come in that quickly? I said yes, of course. The quicker the better, as far as I was concerned. I was surprised to have a 7:50am appointment, though. I'd never encountered a doctor's office that was even open that early before! Our own family doctor's office opens at 9pm, which seems to be pretty standard.
Dh was able to book the time off from work to take me to the appointment. His employers have been so fantastic! Not only were they supportive when he sent an email (from the hospital, via Blackberry) to let them know he wasn't coming in on Friday, but he was assured that he could work from home any time, if I needed him to take care of me. I'm just really impressed with this company and how they treat their employees.
So Tuesday morning had us heading out to the medical centre my gynecologist works out of. It's right near to the hospital emergency entrance, actually. We got there early and Dh dropped me off while he went to find someplace to park that wouldn't cost an arm and a leg. Early was good, since I had paperwork to fill out while I was waiting.
When someone came to get me and Dh, we were left in an examination room with instructions from me to strip from the wait down and sit on the exam table. Gotta love those paper blankets they leave to cover up with. :-P Dh and I chattered away while we waited, and I noticed a sign on the wall informing patients that, due to unexpected emergencies, sometimes appointments could be interrupted or delayed, with apologies and thanks for patience in advance.
When the dr finally came in, he was looking over my file and started talking to me about my cyst. I interrupted to clarify that they had determined it was just a cyst. He seemed almost surprised by my question - as if he thought I already knew. He flipped through the pages and told how the four different markers for cancer they'd tested for had all come back negative. It's still possible that George is actually cancer, but at this point that's viewed as unlikely.
(Shortly after the doctor came in, we got a knock on the door and he had to rush off to take care of something. We could see why the sign on the wall we'd been reading was necessary!)
The next step was to give George his eviction notice. I was to get a laparoscopy, which he started to describe in more detail. They'd be making an incision in my naval for the camera and surgical equipment. The cyst and ovary would be removed through the same opening. A sample would be sent for biopsy immediately. If it came back negative, they'd remove the cyst and ovary, close me up and send me home within a couple of hours. If it did turn out to be cancer, they'd make a larger surgical incision to see what they were dealing and remove what had to be removed, which might include the uterus and right ovary as well. I'd be in the hospital for however long it took, after that. Sort of a worst case scenario. Basically, it was what we were expecting to hear.
Then I got another physical exam and pap smear.
Dh just about burst out laughing at my face during the exam. That and the whole shoulder action from the dr. as he put his weight behind it. Ugh. No wonder I always feel bruised afterwards! He was apparently able to feel George right away, though. That made him a first! No other doctor had been able to until then.
I did remember to ask about the other findings of the ultrasound. The gyno at the emergency had mentioned that my uterine lining was unusually thick. Considering I was menopausal, they weren't sure if this was normal for me or not. When I brought it up, the new gyno actually had to go flipping through the pages again to find what I was talking about. Nothing about the uterus had struck him as unusual. Which turns out to be a moot point, actually. Yesterday (4 days after this appointment) I started my cycle - the first in some 8 months. *sigh* I was so hoping to finally be done with those! *L*
As we were chatting with the dr, we called the cyst by name. The dr. got quite the giggle out of it. It wasn't until later on that I clued in. The dr's first name is Jorge.
After the appointment, I had some paperwork to fill out for the hospital. More background info, allergy info, other health problems, if any, and signing that I'd have everything explained to me and understood it. I did have to ask what a "vendor representative" was. The release form stated that, by signing, I was okay to have a vendor representative in surgery with me. Vendor for what? I asked at the desk and the receptionist had to go find someone to clarify, so I guess they don't get that question often. It turns out that, if some new equipment is being used, the maker of the equipment might have someone in the room to make sure the doctors using it didn't have any problems. It doesn't happen often.
I also asked about the possibility of being able to see George. All this time, and I had yet to see anything besides a vague dark shadow on an ultrasound monitor I could barely view. Off the receptionist went again. When she came back, she explained that, because George out be removed in tiny pieces through a tiny hole, they wouldn't be able to get an actual picture of him, but the nurse promised that they would put the pieces kind of together and get a picture of the bits. Good enough for me! :-)
Yeah, I know. It'll be gross. I'm okay with that.
Which leaves me at where I am now. Waiting. I'm to get a phone call from the hospital telling me when my surgery is booked. I haven't got a call yet, but if it take a while, I'll call the gynecologist's office and see if I can get a bee in someone's bonnet over it. George has been served his eviction notice, and although he's behaving himself for now, he's not long for this world. ;-)
If, however, he does decide to take my ovary for another dance around my intestines, I'm to go straight to emergency, and George will be removed immediately.
Although I have no restrictions placed against me, I'm being a lot more cautious in my mobility. So far, I can walk to the library and back without setting George off again (a distance slightly less than the walk I took that triggered all this), though I did find myself slowing down a lot more than usual. The twisting and bending that I always took for granted will also have to stop. I'm going to be a lot more sedentary than I like for the next while, which is irritating.
Not much to complain about, in the grand scheme of things, though.