I called the doctor’s office to confirm my appointment and determine whether I’d need a driver.
“They’ll be doing the procedure to remove the stent with a local, so you should be okay to drive yourself,” the woman answering the phone informed me.
I’m not exactly sure how this whole removal thing works, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be going through the opening in my body that leads to the uterus tract…and that spells ‘unpleasant’. I’m basing this on the fact that I could find no entry or exit wounds to the original surgery that installed the stent, something that was done while I was knocked out with some wonderful drug. They did install a catheter at that time and since I’m going to be awake for the removal, I can make sure they won’t be doing THAT again. What a baby I am.
I met Savannah and the puppies in the park for a short hike. I’d decided against a Survival Workout because of how uncomfortable I’d been all day. With less than 24 hours to getting rid of the stent and hopefully the pain, I figured it could wait one more day. I am wondering whether I’ll feel like doing anything tomorrow night though.
Anyway, we walked a mile or so. I took us on a trail Savannah had never seen since she likes variety and was up front with the Dakota and Copper when a flash of sunlight bouncing off an animal’s fur caught my eye. I stopped, stared into the underbrush from which it had come and finally detected the movement that had created it.
“Dakota, Copper – come on back here!” I said as I turned and began retracing my steps towards Savannah.
Dakota obeyed instantly and began following me. Copper, that curious little puppy, headed in the direction of the movement before deciding she too should do what I’d said and began following Dakota.
“What’s up?” Savannah asked as I approached.
“Skunk. Surprised to see it in daylight and I’m pretty sure Copper shouldn’t be saying ‘hello’,” I said.
We continued along a different trail with Copper lagging slightly, as puppies will do with their stubby, little legs and limited endurance. I turned to find her carrying something, thinking it was a stick. It wasn’t. She proudly trotted my way with a dead robin carcass in her mouth.
“Um…nice find Copper, but I think we should throw that away,” I said when she dropped it for me. She was learning quickly why Dakota and I liked the woods so much.
I was happy the walk was a short one. Once back in the car, the pressure on my bladder diminished. I drove home, made some dinner and spent another evening sitting, trying to find a comfortable position. My last night of whining, I hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment