That’s not a Smoothie, bitch!

March 23, 2005 at 10:09 am (Rant Goodness)

I've had to be quiet the last couple days and will have to be for a couple more. I tore an upper abdominal muscle Monday afternoon, spent the rest of Monday being poked, prodded, yelling, whining, whimpering (all my least-favorite things) and taking tests to be sure I didn't do more than that. Doc's orders are no unnessary moving around, work or mattress dancing. Normally doctors can kiss my lily-white, cellulite-pocked, long-haired, Goddess-sized ass, but I get a little scared when it hurts to breathe, so for the time being I'm Goodlil McPatient. That ER trip left a lot to be desired, tho. (Yep, soapy lurkers, this is the one you've been asking for).

This trip didn't start well–I sat for half an hour while everyone else was registered first despite my whimpering and attempts to curl my giant ass up into a fetal ball in the waiting room. While trying not to blow eardrums, I heard cackles of laughter coming from the registration desks. Uh, what the FUCK do you silly bitches have to laugh at when I'm about to rain hell on your heads? I looked up to see Honey's Thundergod face firmly in place as he rose to go see for himself why the six women in the registration office should be allowed to keep sucking air. Turned out my forms had gotten wadded up in the bin and missed. They apologized, I bitched, they apologized some more and asked the usual stupid questions.

Once registered, I was escorted back to the ER area very quickly, and staff got busy right away (Unusual for the hospital I went to). Unfortunately, the PA who saw me decided my ulcers were the problem and ordered the nurse to feed me a "GI Cocktail". They're great for massive heartburn but don't do jack for anything else, and I was already pretty sure this wasn't just blick-bad heartburn. By the time the third nurse and second PA had seen me, two more hours had passed before FINALLY someone coughed up some pain meds! Ahh, morphine–bad for you but great on kick-in-the-sternum pain. It was a good thing I hurt less before they started the rest of the party, because things went downhill on a trash can lid from there.

I expected the blood tests, an X ray or CT scan or something–I didn't expect a cheery redheaded nurse to come in seconds after I ask for something to eat, asking, "Do you want a banana smoothie?" I don't as a rule do smoothies, but I'd been in that damned ER for five hours and I'd have eaten the ass end of a bear by then. Honey excuses himself–he hates bananas–as I realize that smoothie bottle looks entirely too…medical…to really taste good. "Drink all this fast as you can, then we'll take you for the CT scan"

Uh, riiiiiight. I read the bottle quickly, catching one word right off the bat–BARIUM. "That's not a smoothie." The nurse explains that the doc wants a dye contrast on the CT scan, so "bottoms up and we'll see you in a little bit"

You first, bitch. Thinking that did no good–Little Nurse Ratchet saunters out, undoubtedly to administer an enema with tacks inside to that poor old man I saw come in just ahead of me. The old man starts yelling right around the time I'm gagging down the first swallow of banana-flavored wet chalk. I can get better banana flavorings–why in blue hell can't this company? I decide to deal with a personal matter before that pseudo-smoothie and I have anything more to do with each other.

While in the hall, the nurse calls my name. "SSS, only drink half that bottle now." Yay! I only have to choke down half as much chalk!

Well, not quite–seems they want me to drink the other half right there in the Radiology lab. Bleh. No reprieve. I make faces both from the residual pain in my gut and the thought of more of that garbage in the bottle. I do manage to make 1/2 the bottle stay down before the Radiology tech comes to get me. Once we get to the lab, she only makes me drink a couple more ounces before lining me up on the scanner and getting the pictures. FINALLY a break! I cheer as the Libation from Hell hits the shitcan.

Three hours later, I am told that I've "just" torn an abdominal muscle and given my sailing orders and prescriptions for various pain-relievers, along with instructions to be a good little soaper and behave myself. Since I'm crocked to the eyeballs, I nod, smile dreamily, put the paperwork in my purse and let the nurse live without even telling her off about that lie she tried to tell me about that dye shit.

I still have the NASTIEST taste in my mouth here–combination of fake bananas and chemicals. Fucking fake-redhead pill-pushing enema-sucking ass-roaming needle-poking vampire BITCH!

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