#9-A Pre Op Nurse's Kinky Recommendation

This ridiculousness moved me to complete and INAPPROPRIATE laughter. I want to paint a picture of my mental state the day before my shunt fitting. My panic was fine, completely under control; however, I resembled a deer in headlights. I typically go very quiet (almost mute) before stressful events AND before panic invades my body. It is a clue for Kyle that I may be a ticking panic time bomb ready to explode with tears, sweat, and hyperventilation. I say nothing, have few facial expressions, and give no eye contact. Weird I know, but I think it is just my body's way of taking in everything and processing it. Also, my parents always taught my to treat people with kindness, and if I didn't go into this near comatose state, I would be a ranging bitch to everyone. So I was in this walking comatose state when I went to Research to get my pre op blood work, my attractive imaging fiducials placed, and my consent form signed.

The night before the shunt fitting with my sexy fiducials.

 

 

I check in and the elderly lady with a an epic bouffant hairstyle checked me in and commented on how sad it was that I was going to have to shave my pretty hair. My inner irrational side, I have named Alex (Glen Close from Fatal Attraction), wanted to say "Thanks lady...you have all your grossly teased hair to enjoy and I am about to look like my husband who intentionally shaves his head...thanks, just thanks." Also, Alex would have flipped her the bird too. However, rational April simply grins and nods without eye contact or words. BTW, the same check-in lady found me the next day in the waiting room and managed to reiterate her sorrow for my hair. I wish I could of found her and given her some peace after I realized most of my hair was unharmed. 

 

Back to the day before, I was called back to a room to get all my pre-op tasks completed. The nurse completing the checklist asked how I was doing, I gave a smile, not letting Alex blurt out "I am about to have a hole drilled in my skull tomorrow, how do you think I am doing?" The nurse reads a huge disclaimer about possible complications, and I tune out because if I thought about the very rare death, seizures, or paralysis, Alex would completely dominate and security would be taking me to the hospital jail (do they have such a thing?). This whole interaction included her asking me yes/no questions and taking blood and me being mute with occasional nods or grins. She was probably relieved to get rid this anti-social log of a patient when she sent my off to CT to get my imaging fiducials placed. However, she got me back for final instructions. She is instructing me about no food or drink after midnight, and I nod. She says take off all jewelry and I nod. She says to shower the night before and I ,of course, nod. Then she gives me two packages of huge baby wipes and coaches me on wiping my entire body with the Anti-MRSA wipes after my shower, and I obligingly nod.

 

Then she caught me off guard when she encourages me to "get kinky with my husband and the wipes," if I knew what she meant...wink...wink? She continues by saying "the wipes won't hurt him even though he isn't having surgery." I quickly get this unfortunate mental image of a woman trying to turn a man on by whipping out a huge 16in X 16in full body anit-MRSA wipe. That thought sent my silent disposition into a uncontrollable laughing Joker-like figure. The laughter was the snorty-teary kind of laughing that can't be contained. My silence had been broken, and I am not sure if the nurse was offended by my laughter or was relieved I had some kind of personality despite my reserve. Once again I owe a nurse for getting me out of my mind and shedding light on a crappy situation. Just so you know, the wipes smelled like a mixture of bug spray and Lysol and left a greasy residue on the skin, so there was NO kinkiness happening at 1101 NE Wildplum that night.