The Invisible Man Syndrome

Yesterday, I wrote that, just perhaps, I might try to post from the hospital today. Alas! the invisible man syndrome reared its head, and here I am at home. I have written in the past (I think) that has often seemed to be my fate to be overlooked and to fall through the cracks in life, but I am not going to plow that old furrow again. 

But I will tell that it happened again yesterday. 

At hospital admitting, there was some sort of a hitch with my paperwork, specifically with regards to with having a room for me after the surgery. Nevertheless, I proceeded to the surgery floor and was in there by 7:30 being bombarded with paperwork, questions, and in setting up my IV.

The waiting game began. At around 8:45, they apologized for the delay because the surgery ahead of mine was taking up more time than anticipated. But then, another patient went in before me, which I am pretty sure wasn’t supposed to have happened. Shortly thereafter, I was told that the delay was because they didn’t know where to put me post-surgery. But they were working on it.

I texted Sue and Sha at almost 9:30

They parked me in a corner, or very close to it, and went about their chores with new arrivals and post-surgery care of other patients.

To say that I was uncomfortable in a narrow gurney is an understatement, for apart from the catheter contraption, I have back and other issues, and was also coping with a caffeine-withdrawal headache.

I was beginning to have a pity party and texted:

Ten minutes later:

10:10

10:30 in response to Sue's texts wondering what was going on.

Just after that ↑ post, and after I had been squirming on the gurney for three hours, the surgeon came to see me. There was simply no room available for me in these post-COVID times, and the situation could not been resolved. The invisible man syndrome had struck once again in my lil ole life. 

I faced a choice, Return tomorrow (which is now today) or have the surgery right then (yesterday) and go home afterward.

Well, I am (we are) used to a catheter by now, or as used to it as one can be, and we have been muddling along for two weeks already. Shauna had taken the day off work, and I didn’t want any of us to face the preparation of getting ready all over again for an early morning drive.

I texted Sue at 10:35

My next text to Sue was more than two hours later at 12:50

So, here I am in my humble den and not invisible to Sue. (Or Lacey for that matter, who I can tell you is most anxious for breakfast.) Last night, for only the second time in two weeks, I did not have a sweat-through, and I had a good-for-me sleep in my chair, and not the bed this time. Maybe I will try to sleep in the chair again tonight.

I have a larger diameter catheter this time, but I can’t tell the difference. My urine was pretty red overnight but seems to be a bit less tinged this morning. It will stay in until next Thursday when we will drive back to the hospital where the urologist will remove it. 

That is assuming that he is able to see me through my invisibility cloak.