Now where was I....

Hello all. As you can tell by the date I wasn't able to get back as soon as I thought I would but none the less I'm here, surgery is over, & I've got pictures. So you won't have to read the previous post I'll just start over & give you my take on the whole experience.
Let's go back, if you will indulge me a bit, to Friday April 14th. This day was a bit full to say the least. I was finishing up my move from my aunt's house so I still had to clean the room, clean the kitchen (because it was my week to do so), wash the rest of my clothes & pack them, change & wash the sheets. All this needed to be done or at least a fair dent placed before my 10:30am10:30, 1) because my ride forgot she was taking me & had a job interview (totally understandable) and 2) because I just had WAY too much stuff to do. So I call the hospital & reschedule for 2:00pm. Okay, now I'm thinking I can get all the stuff for my aunts house done & out of the way so when I leave her house this time I won't have to come back like I would have if I had gone in the morning. So, on top of rescheduling my blood work I reschedule my hair appointment. I was suppose to get my hair done at 12pm but changed it to 3pm. Fast forward to 1:45 my other friend (who's house I'll be staying) picks me up along with the rest of my belongings & we're off to the hospital for the blood work. Now on the way we get a call from Raquita's grandmother saying we need to call the hospital.

Inner Spoken: Why do we have to call them when we're on the way there now? And they should know this because I have an appointment.

appointment to get my blood work done at the hospital for surgery on Monday. Needless to say I didn't get to the hospital at So I call the hospital, & they say I need to pre-registar over the phone. Fine by me so just as I'm finishing we're pulling into the parking in the front of the hospital. Get inside & the lady tells me I need to pre-registar again. When I tell her I already did, she said thier system has gone down I they have to do everything by hand. Not a problem so I registar (again) & then they send me to the surgical center where my blood work needs to be done. Okay, so far so good but this is were everything else that has to deal with my surgery experience gets gift wrapped & delivered to Satin's front door. So I go back to this little room, kinda basic, this where we do all the blood work place & sit down.

Inner Spoken: Don't punk out D. You have two tattoos so you can't get nervous about getting blood drawn. It'll take like two seconds you can leave this place it'll be okay. They look like they've been doing this for a while so you'll be good.

Oh how wrong the inner Spoken was. Now I will totally take the blame for judging a book by its cover. That's on me, I'll take it, that one is my fault. These two broads they have placed my care in have no idea what in the free world (trying to be nice folks) they're doing. The first nurse tries to draw my blood right? I use to facilitate blood drives for my job in Las Vegas on a quarterly basis so I know a little about getting my blood taken. They will normally take the blood from behind my elbow where it bends cause that's were the strongest part of my vain is located. Did this dilapidated piece of flesh do that, no. This women tried to draw blood from the top of were my elbow bends & wonders why it's not coming out fast enough. So she takes out the needle & applies pressure, saying she doesn't want to leave a bruise. She then goes to stick me the righ way & not enough blood comes out so she stops. Then this other geriatric recipient is looking over my charts for Monday & verifying everything. She then makes a little commit about how I won't miss my periods since I'll be getting my hysterectomy on Monday.

Inner Spoken: What the fuck she just say?

"I'm sorry nurse (Whoever you are) I'm not getting a hysterectomy.”
"Well, that's what your chart says. Didn't your doctor discuss with you what was being done?'
"Yes, he did. And I was told that a hysterectomy was only going to be done if there was no option left once they took out the largest of my fibroids. I'm only having a myomectomy. "
"Well, you may want to talk to your doctor then because it says, right here that you're scheduled for a hysterectomy on Monday. Did you want to cal him now?"
"No, I'll call when I leave here."

Inner Spoken: Don't hit her. She's only reading what's on the paper. It's not her fault she has no tact & she may be the one that has to take care of you when you get here on Monday. So don't bink her in the head. That isn't a good lesson for Cammie don't hit the lady in the face. Stay calm, they still haven't taken your blood yet.


Long story short for the hospital they took the blood, after sticking me twice in each arm. Bruised by left arm like I was in a fight & scared the hell out of me. All I may add with a smile on both of they're wrinkled tired faces. Raquita & I leave the hospital & I'm officially in freak out mode because I didn't agree to having all of my female reproductive parts yanked out. I was told by my very foreign doctor that they were going to take the largest of my fibroids out & only if the bleeding couldn't be stopped then I might (might) have to have a hysterectomy.

Please understand I care about friend Raquita like she was blood, I do. But that day she couldn't console me for shit & she was slowly but surely pissing right the fuck on off because I felt like she had the opinion of well you gotta get it done so let's just get it done. The only reason I can think she said this is because she’s gotten comfortable with the fact that all the women in her family has had to have this procedure before they were 40. So she’s resigned in the fact that she may loose her uterus too. I on the other hand am not. I will admit that I can lose my breast & be okay because breast cancer runs in my family. I understand were she was coming from but the tears said something differently. We talk to my doctor's office & my doctor straightened everything out as much as he can. My doctor is really sweet. He's like don't listen to them they don't know what they're talking about. Just listen to me. I want you smiling on Monday.

Inner Spoken: Dude, I didn't want to come to this hospital in the first fuckin place so if I'm not suppose to listen to them then I'ma need you to either talk to then about they're bed side manner or Imo get with them folks & piss everybody off.

Hospital stuff is over & I'm on my way you get my hair done but I need to stop by the bank to get some money to pay my stylist. While I'm there I might as well deposit this check I got for my state income tax. No problem right, uh wrong. Quita is driving so she making my deposit for me she puts my card in the ATM & it doesn't recognize the fact she put my card in. She hits cancel nothing happens


Inner Spoken: Holy shit. Not this to, not today. Do not say whoa is me D, just don't. Get out of the car & try to fix this.

Get out of the car, in the middle of the Drive Thru ATM line & go into the banking center. Talk to the courtesy teller & spend the better part of 45 mins pulling all kinds of strings to get the bank to send me another check card to the banking center under rush shipping. Why is this difficult? Well, first my account is in a different state so they can't give me an emergency ATM card to just get cash & under normal circumstances they will only send the card to the mailing address on file which takes 7-10 business days. Strings pulled my card will be at the bank on next Tuesday. Note. I will be in the hospital when they get it but I don't tell her that.
Just as the courtesy associate is blocking my card to send me a new one, the Brinks security person is at the ATM taking the deposits & would have been able to give me my card back but because the bank has just blocked it, they can't un-block it.

Inner Spoken: Curse you Aqua Scuuummmm. (A Finding Nemo reference)

By the end of the day I get my hair done, get to Legacy, spend time with my poetry family, & thank God that the day was finally over. Am I done? Not by a long shot. I haven't even got to my surgery yet & there was so much more that happened in between the Friday I just posted, the weekend before, & the days after. I figure I've given you enough to read for one day. For those that can rest well.

Please Pass the Poison, part 1

Hey all, haven't posted for a while sinceI've been working like a Hebrew slave trying to accumulate enough OT at the job to earn some extra money. Also, they redid the firewalls at work so it won't let me go to the blogger site to update my post. A lot's been going on since I last posted & I tend to bounce around a bit so forgive me if I seem to go off on tangents, eventually I'll come back to my thought. Hey, I'm an artist. And how many artist do you know that aren't a tainch bit scatter-brained?
Were to begin? The begining would take far to long so I'll just sum up & go from there. My aunt (father's side) allowed me to move into her house a year ago till I could get back on my feet & arrange some things in my life, for which I will forever be eternally greatful. So I've lived there for a year & because of our very different ways to view life we have constanly butted heads. I'm very passive when it comes to my family & I chalk it up to the 'do as I say & not as I do' lessons I learned as a kid that I can't seem to shake. Every once in a while I will shut down & forget that I'm a grown up when dealing with my family & that's I'm allowed to have my own opinions. So I just end up doing what ever it is that was requested of me with out speaking my mind. Anyway, when I came back to St. Louis this go 'round my biggest concern was not getting in the way of my aunt & younger cousin's (14) daily routines & rituals. I just kinda kept to myself which is what I always do when it comes to my family. Let me stop here for a minute cause I need to fast forward to more recent events so I can tie my day together & you'll understand.
Never to be one of those people who mince words or intentionally drag out the obvious but I'm having surgery on Monday. It's kinda major, no matter how I try to downplay it & I had to do some pre-op bloodwork today. Now, what I have is a series of fibrod tumors on and/or in my uterus. The lagest one, per my doctor is about the size of a 7 mos pregnant fetus. Wel, from what my doctor told me he's going to go in & remove trhe larger tumor becuse it eil be the easiest to remove due to the location. The downside to this is that there is a possibility I may have to have my whole uterus removed. Not an option I'm looking forward to but still trying to be a 'glass is half full' kind of gal. So I get to the hospital, & I'm 3 & a half hours late but I did reschedule for the time I was showing up. Now before I get out of the casr is the parking lot I just get off the phone with this lady saying she wanted me to preregister. Now I'm actually in the hospital & the registration lady says I need to preregistar & I'm like "didn't I just finish a phone call to do this" but I digress. And I'm starting to fall asleep at the computer so I will finish this tomorrow. For those that can, rest well.

Oooo & ahhhh people

Man, ya gotta love friends. My super cool (although it pains me to admit it) loser friend Raquita took pity on the new blog kid & made my blog pretty. It still needs a little fine tuning & tweeking but I think she did a really good job. I 'm gonna try to to the tweeking myself (eek!). Hopfully I won't f-up all her hard work trying to 'fixed' or 'add' stuff to my page blog thingy.
Speaking of my loser friend I gottat tell ya, our relationship is love hate to say the least. See we both come from a family where we are the first born so naturally we feel the need to take care of everybody but ourselves. Having sd that the 'hate' part of our friendship comes when she tries to take care of me or help me out & vise versa. Cause I don't want her stinkin help & she doesn't want mine. But like the intelligent, innovative, creatively sexy black women we are, we have delveloped an effective way to decide who gets to be the big sister for the issue at hand & who has to submit & do what the other wants... we play Rock, Paper, or Scissor. Loser has to do what the other one whats. It's quite effective & I highly recommend it when decision making is up in the air. Now my reasone for saying this is because on last night Quita came to pick me up (again I am a vehicular leech, I admit it) but we had to get Cammie (her 1 year old daughter) some milk & breakfast stuff for the week. So we're in the check out line & she forgets her debit card but I have mine. So I offer to just pay for it. She refuses, I insist, she's a loser, I still insist, & she still doesn't want to take it. SO, where does that leave us folks? You guessed, rock, paper, scissor. Now at this point I must inform you that Queue always does the same thing first in this game & unless you pay attention you don't notice. But because she knows I know this, she was visually concetrating way way too hard trying not to go her usual. But being the oh so fabulous best female friend that I am I know her patterns in this game. And once again, Blogvillians, Spoken reigns supreme (insert beauty queen wave here) thank you, thank you. It was the funniest thing that happened all weekend. She's great & if you read her blog she's right, she is disgustingly good at just about everything she tries (it gets annoying, trust). But I think it's only because she neurotic & feels the need to make everything she touches better than it was originally & won't rest untill she occomplishes it. But she's not good at paper, rock scissor. t least not with me (insert snickering hear).