Hey yo, it's just another bombtrack

Ok, this is going to be relatively quick, because it's late, and I NEED my bed.

I got my heart monitor thing put on today - it's only on for 24 hours, so that's good, because the latex in these stickers is already eating my skin off underneath. It hurts SOOOO BAD! &=( But oh well.

Anyway, so ONCE AGAIN, I had to expose my front to a total stranger, for her to put the leads on me, she got me all hooked up, and gave me this GIANT I-POD to clip on my pants. It looks like an I-Pod for beginners. Or kindergarteners. "My First Giant I-Pod" - I can see the box already. It's more like a gigantic digital clock. For my hip. And, it's a whole hour behind. So, it's not helpful at all.

Ah, but I digress from my point of this post.

All around St. Vincent's, they're doing construction. It just so happens that part of the construction is going on right next to the parking deck I parked in. And, I heard all the hammering and whatnot when I first got there. The thing I parked in front of was this giant, metronomic, industrial post-hole digger or something. I mean, this thing is HUGE. And loud. I don't know what it is. But it has this giant steel post that slams into something in the ground, and makes this obscenely loud clanging sound for seemingly no reason, unless they're trying to break ground into hell. From what I hear, though, it's not really that hard to get in.

So, I step off the elevator, and I'm playing TextTwist (tm) on my phone, heading back to the car, already a little frazzled-feeling from the day. I hadn't noticed anything about the construction, because I'm just sort of an idiot, and I don't really pay attention to my surroundings. Never do, never will. So, then someone presses the start button on the post-holer, and that thing SLAMS into the ground, with this God-awful, high-pitched clang. And, I never saw it coming.

People...let me just tell you, all war jokes aside, I threw myself on the ground like we had just been hit by a bomb. I don't remember the last time I flew through the air, especially that long and that far. This horrid scream came out of my throat - a kind of "WAAAAHH!!!," and I dove onto the ground, face-first, into the pavement, with my arms over my head. I was belly-down on the ground of the St. Vincent's parking deck, head down, braced for impact. As the sound continued and the numbers began to add up, I had kind of gathered that I wasn't dead, so I put my head up to assess the situation. As I turned my head, there was a lady standing across the parking lot from me, with an absolutely horrified expression on her face. She said, "You know, that scared me too, but I don't think nearly as bad as it scared you." Bless her heart, she came over to help me up, and I had to dig my phone out from under 3 cars away.

If I didn't have an "episode" when that happened, there's absolutely nothing wrong with my heart (yeah, there's not anyway - just thought I'd throw that in.)

I was literally shaking when I got in the car and started to drive away. Gah, I'm STILL freaked out, just thinking about it! I know people think I'm a total drama queen, but oh well. That scared the sh** out of me. I hate being jumpy, but I am, so psh. At least I'm prepared for an explosion...but not really.

And now I have this stupid thing on till 2 tomorrow, so I'll let you know if I manage to NOT peel my skin off before then.

fall-out girl

Ok, let's see...first off, I'm ok.

Here's the story:
I was buzzing around in the OR, doing everything I normally do. I had just done a block in room 17, pulled the c-arm out, put it in Gould's case in 2, and in the middle of all of this, I was also running Gould's other case in 15. It's nothing new - I do it ALL the time. But apparently, physical overexertion wasn't in the cards for me yesterday. I went BACK into 2 to help them turn a patient while still under the sterile drapings, and let me tell you, that's REALLY a lot harder than it looks. You have to keep everything sterile, don't touch certain things, make sure you're not choking or chafing the patient, make sure their body is in a comfy position, put the straps back on, blah, blah, blah... Also, it was a big guy. And, I'm NOT a big guy. So, I finally come down off my adrenaline high from doing all that stuff, and I just got really hot, sweaty and dizzy, and I just checked out.

Apparently, I knew that it was happening, because they said I stumbled backwards, and everyone thought I tripped at first, which is totally not new, since I fall off a stool down there at least once a week. But, I googled over my feet, then fell back and hit my head on the door. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes, and our anesthesia guy, Darryl was standing over me. I was like, "Hey! Wait, what are you doing up there? In my face? Over here? Why am I over here? Wait...WHERE am I? Why am I on the ground? WHAT DID YOU PEOPLE DO TO ME???" And of course, I burst into tears when I realized what had happened. I mean, hey, I can make an ass of myself for the benefit of anyone who is standing around to take note - but geez, that's just embarrassing! *blushes*

I was also like simultaneously hot and cold when I woke up. Of course, I still had my mask and lead apron on. I do everything with my apron on, though. I mean, it's like 45 lbs of dead weight or something. Anyway, it's not that much - I've definitely worn worse. I started crying and hyperventilating when I woke up, cause I was totally freaked out, so of course my heart rate went through the roof. Anyway, I had a little bit of a hazy "woah, I don't feel so great" feeling. But I thought it was just some dizzy spell, and it would pass.

Well, it did.

But I had to take a nap on the floor for a minute.

When they finally PEELED my apron off of me, my clothes were absolutely drenched in sweat. And I smelled like livestock. Like maybe a donkey or chicken coop or something. But I remember standing there, feeling the sweat run down my stomach under my apron - not a favorite feeling of mine.

So they put me on a stretcher and wheeled me out in front of God and everyone (reminiscent of the time I fell and hurt my back at Children's and had to be wheeled out the front freaking door in the middle of the leather coat sale, then they turned the siren on the ambulance to "get through traffic" - need I say more?). They put me in recovery to monitor me, and my friend Ryan came out to sit with me. Or else was "assigned" to me. Anyway, he said he heard Mark, our OR tech, burst through the door and say, "Jennifer just hit the floor!," so he said he came in and saw Mark "dancing" with me. He said, "I walked in and saw Mark with his arms around you, like he was trying to restrain you. I figured, hey, you'd had enough and you lost it and were trying to kill the people in the room. No big deal. Code orange. Whatever." I was trying to breathe oxygen through a snotty nose and laugh at the same time.

Dr. Gould even stayed out there with me for a little bit. He said it was probably just my malaria kicking up again. I told him it's taken him 2 years to take me down, but he finally did it. &=) I felt perfectly fine after I got everything off and got cooled down. Ryan was like, "Great. Now every time someone wants something, they're going to pull a 'Jennifer.' 'Hey, I don't want to be in that room!'" *swoon*

Of course, everyone wanted to know if it was my bat bite. I was like, "No, I'm FINE! I swear!" But I had to go down to that stupid Workplace anyway and get checked out. She said she heard a little bit of a heart murmur, but when I got to Dr. Han's, he said he didn't hear anything. They're putting me on a holter monitor, just to be on the safe side, to make sure I didn't have any sudden drops in bp or something. They x-rayed my head, and it's just as solid and hard as ever. He said the only other things it could have been was sudden drop in blood sugar (but I'd had breakfast), dehydration or the fact that I just gave blood last week. Which, like, I'm not good at making lots of blood anyway...unless I'm bleeding. Then I make lots of it. Or it all just wants to get out through a particular opening/injury.

Ok, so what does this mean? Yes, I'm still vegetarian. Yes, I'm still unattractively pasty. Yes, I'm still going to have knee surgery. I'M FINE. I was fine yesterday, when I passed out (and laying on the ground). I kept begging them to let me go back to work, and I was like apologizing profusely to everyone. Chris has already asked me a couple of times if I was ok. I'm fine. I went downstairs to retrieve my books and stuff out of my apron, and everyone jumped me when I got off the elevator. I'm fine.

I mean, hey, don't get me wrong. I'm glad everyone is so concerned. I just got super burny-hot. But I really was ok and just wanted to go back to work.

Oh, crap, that was the OTHER thing. "Omg, are you pregnant?"

Um, not unless it's the second coming, cause I haven't seen any action in *ahem* QUITE SOME TIME. I loved being able to reveal so much about my personal life in the span of like 3 minutes. I make it a point to NOT mix business and "pleasure," or whatever you'd deem your outside life. Just...bad stuff happens if you do. *shivers* Let's not go there. Anyway, my two lives are just separate. Work is work and will always be work. Outside life is hanging out with the cats, Heather, family & sleeping. The end.

But NOT the end! Haha!

Aside from that, what else? Let's see...still looking for the perfect apt here in Southside, closer to work. Getting ready for surgery in two weeks. I'm going to go ahead and ask off for 4 weeks, but I'm pretty sure I'll be back before that. Unless I develop something weird to complicate things, which is always possible, if not expected, for me.

Ohhh, and Heather's Kitty Boy died last night. We don't know what happened, but she found him in the foyer yesterday, and he was laying there, drooling, so she rushed him to the vet. They did what they could, but he didn't make it. Heather sent me an email to tell me they're going to do an autopsy on him, to see if he was poisoned or something. It just makes me sad. &=( I hate when animals die, especially without their people. And as everyone knows, my animals ARE my people. I spend more time with my girls than I do at work. We lay around and watch tv and talk and I'M A CRAZY LADY, AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS!!!!

Anyway, my sympathies to Heather and Kitty Boy. He wasn't especially friendly to me, but he was her kitty, and she'd had him since he was a baby.

Ok, so I'm outey for now. I'm back at work, and I gotta find something to do around here, or I'm going to go crazy.