Our Faces Are Trying to Kill Us

This is going to be a fast and dirty post so hang on to your panties/gaunch.

In the middle of last week, one of my teeth decided to be an asshole and host an infection party that probably included hookers and pimps and dope dealers.  The music was terrible and my TMJ started complaining bitterly.  Long story short, there was a trip to emergency where they pumped me full of antibiotics and ordered me to their HPTP clinic the following morning to be installed with a pump and bags of antibiotics.  I would have an extra appendage for the next four days.

I was positive that I deserved some pampering.  It’s not every day that I have the excuse of a massive infection to just loaf around the house being waited on hand and foot by The Viking.

Unfortunately, The Viking had other plans.  On the way home from Emergency he says:

“My neck hurts.”

Me:  Oh no you don’t!!  It’s my turn!  You always take over my illnesses.  I get a cold, you get a cold too, only worse so I have to take care of you even though I’m sick too.  Why do I always have to be the one that has to ‘soldier on’?  I want pampering!

Him:  I didn’t plan it, you know!

And he didn’t plan it, but it happened anyway.  The following morning his neck was swelling up quickly.  So, while I was getting my pump installed, he went to Emergency.  Once I was finished, I found him and we waited for the results.

Which said exactly nothing.  They sent him home with a preventative course of antibiotics but they didn’t think it was an issue.  In fact, the Doctor was sort of condescending.  Fast forward to Friday afternoon and we were back in Emergency and the Doctors were impressed at the size of the lump on the left side of The Viking’s neck. And it kept growing!  I think it was starting to develop its own brain.  They pumped him full of morphine and antibiotics and sent him for tests.

FYI……those people who ferry the ill back and forth to radiology are antelope.  They aren’t people at all.  They look like people but just try keeping up with them as you juggle your IV bags, 2 coats, a purse, a water bottle and 2 tablets.

I started to judge them on the length of their legs.  One Flamingo showed up and, I swear to Gawd, her legs were 8 feet long.

Holy Shit!  You look like a ‘fast walker’ if I’ve ever seen one!”

She looked down on me.  “What?”

I mumbled “Nothing.  Please don’t lose me or I may starve to death in the maze that is this hospital.”

They laugh like I’m making a joke, but I’m not trying to be funny.  By the time we reach radiology, I’m bent over and sucking in air like a jet engine, my legs are shaking and I’m gasping out curses at fucking Olympic athletes loping around the gawd-damned hospital killing the innocent relatives of the fucking ill.  And then an orderly comes out and sees me about to pass out.  “Are you okay, Ma’am?”

“Do I fucking look okay?  I’ve just run a bloody marathon with Usain fucking Bolt and I’ve got my own IV nightmare going on if you don’t mind (I wave my IV’d left arm under his nose)!  Get me some water already!”

The rest of the time is spent in crushing boredom.  Fighting off my own infection, I was finding it difficult to cope with the length of time this was all taking.  I assumed they would fill him up with antibiotics and install a pump like they did with me.

That didn’t happen though.  They admitted him right into the hospital because they thought they could drain some of the infection and because they were starting to get alarmed at how quickly his head was building another entire person.  And then there were more trips down to radiology and more cursing.

The cats are pissed off.  Well, Teddy is just concerned but Izzie wants answers and someone to slap!  What the fuck is going on here?!  Where’s The Viking?  He always holds the spoon for me to lick.  You stink like Hospital – don’t touch me, that’s gross!  I chewed the container of chicken broth and made a mess.  That’s how pissed I am.

I gave them treats and tried to spoil them a bit.

The following morning there was a single paper towel on the kitchen floor with two small corner bits torn off.  As a communication it was brilliant.  They are still pissed but only this amount of pissed and not an entire roll of toilet paper pissed.  I thanked them both for their understanding and promised to be more attentive when I could.

Back at the hospital, The Viking was scheduled for yet another ultrasound.  The ferry person turned out to be a penguin and I dared to think that I might be able to keep up with herHA!  Her little legs were pumping like pistons as she careened around corners.  The Viking’s gown was riding up around his belly and IV lines were streaming behind like ribbons.  I was running to keep up, the Tic Tacs in my purse shaking like Maracas.  Finally, I had to yell at her….

“Wait a fucking minute….gasp….I have nerve damage….gasp….in my fucking leg….gasp….and I….gasp….can’t keep up!”  Gasp, gasp, gasp.

I heard a faint apology drifting back to me but she didn’t slow down at all.  Thank gawd she had to wait for an elevator.  When we arrived at our destination, The Viking smiles into my sweating face and says….

“You’re getting a little bit of exercise, Babe.”

….as he reclines comfortably, pushing his dressing gown to cover his sex area.

And that, my friends, is pure bravery coming from a man laying on a stretcher in a dressing gown that leaves his ass exposed.

 

 

12 thoughts on “Our Faces Are Trying to Kill Us”

  1. To me, this reads like ‘Fawlty Towers’ at hospital. Of course, the cast of marathon flamingoes absolutely breaks my brain!

    1. It’s insane how fast those people can walk! And you should see them clustered around Radiology waiting for their patient’s return trip. They all stand around on one leg nodding at each other with maybe an odd comment in the mix. It’s frightening, really. :o)

  2. Oh, fart. I forgot to respond to another part of your post. So, you wrote, ‘one of my teeth decided to be an asshole and host an infection party that probably included hookers and pimps and dope dealers. The music was terrible and my TMJ started complaining bitterly. Long story short…’ But when teeth get involved, the story gets only longer. I had a horrible infection that eluded the radar for a long time, only becoming meaner and nastier. In fact, it was downright gnasty, with a silent ‘g’ at the front. My wide array of painkillers helped the infection slide through any detectors or whatever one might call them. Three dentists later, while finding out that the Damnish understanding or presentation of handicapped-accessible emergency dental care involves stairs. Yeah, right, wheelchair stairs. O.o That is to say that someone’s understanding of handicapped-accessible goes only as far as the ‘hand’ part of that word. Anyway, f#cking teeth!

    1. You got that right! I’m on long-term pain management that leaves me with horrible dry mouth. I can manage that during the day, but at night my teeth are under siege. Dental coverage is a joke around here so it’s only a matter of time before I have to move to dentures. :o( I can’t afford the astronomical prices for dental care. After 4 days of IV antibiotics I still have 10 days of oral antibiotics and then the tooth in question has to go. So……I agree! F#ucking teeth!!

  3. Bloody hell, Sista… That is more than a bitch. How dare the Viking try to out “pain” you. Definitely.not part of the Book of Cool.

    That said, hope his extra head disappears and your mouth situation heals. He owes you a major TLC session..

    Lucky for us your fingers and wit are not affected…

    1. Haha! To add insult to injury, my computer has betrayed me and is refusing to start. Tomorrow I’m going to have to buy a new case for it and transfer all its guts over. All for a shorted out start button! But since The Viking is otherwise occupied, I’m using his. :o) Thanks for the good vibes Sistah!

  4. I’m in tears I’m laughing so hard . I’ve been someone pushing someone to radiology . You should print this blog out and send it in to transport thanking them for coming to work ; they’d love it.

    1. I am so glad you stopped by Carrie! You just made my day. Honestly, your’s is the best comment I’ve ever received. Thank you. Perhaps I’ll hashtag them. :o)

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