Sunday, May 22, 2011

Cindy in Chicago - Day Six of Freedom


Today was appointment day. It was tough. I had become very dehydrated and didn't realize it. Anemic after six days of no food before I could eat. So I was weak and dizzy. Labs were at ten. We took the bus over and the driver was so erratic. Abrupt stops and fast take offs and we were sitting side ways. Two old guys got into a fight. By time we got off our stop, we were so happy to be free.

The lab is not quite the best experience. Always crowded, screaming kids, had to wear my face mask, it was hot and stuffy, and we had to wait quite a while. Once that was over, I thought I couldn't even walk. We went to the cafeteria in the hospital and I got an authentic Chicago hot dog--another okay experience. I favor the NY dirty water dogs! I drank as much as I could but was way down on fluid.

We had two and half hours to kill so John and I walked to a shopping center. But it got to me and we had to make our way back slowly, stopping for me to rest.

We got to the clinic early at 1:00 PM and my appointment was at 1:45. There was an LED TV mounted on the wall with a soap opera on and the volume was SO LOUD--so excruciating loud, it was like torture--like someone tying you to a chair and forcing you to watch the show you hate the worst for hours.

Then, for reasons unknown, EVERYONE got called before me even though John and I were the first ones in the waiting room and first to sign in. And the nurses in the office were in very bad moods so making a comment or complaint would do me in for ever. That seems wrong doesn't it? But John and I have been in dozens of medical facilities. There are times you know the people in charge can make your life miserable and get away with it--over and over. This was one such office.

So the waiting commenced and the blaring TV pounded at our heads. Two and a half hours later, I got called but only to weigh me and do vitals. "Go out and take a seat."

I plopped into the plastic chair once more. At least the soap operas were done for the day and the news was on. Hallelujah.

Then I got called again, finally. The doctor was pleased but I was way too dehydrated and anemic. Had to drink more and start eating more. "When can I go home?"

"Not for two or three weeks. We like to keep people at least four weeks to be sure there is no rejection. I'll see you next Friday. Have labs on Thursday."

I understood his assessment. He's absolutely right to keep me until I am stable.

We headed for the train and made our way back downtown. Stopped at The French Market to get some high quality organic ground beef and cheese to make burgers for dinner--no bread. John and I split one scoop of Espresso Gelato and I had an Irish Cream truffle. It was a good ending to the day.

Visit me at

No comments:

Post a Comment