Wasted Day

Well, I have just returned home from a late lunch and a movie with my husband. That's right, a movie. But Michelle, you might be asking, I thought you were going to spend the whole day at the hospital having a kidney biopsy done? Yes, that is what I should have been returning home from. The only problem is, I did not have a kidney biospy done today. I was supposed to. I was scheduled to. I had planned to. Things do not always go as they are supposed, scheduled, or planned. I did go to the hospital today. I showed up there at eleven a.m. sharp, two hours before my biopsy, as planned. I went through the admitting process. I was shown to my room. I put on a hospital gown. They came and stuck me to get blood, and inserted an I.V. line. The nurse asked me a thousand questions about my health history and entered all of the information into their computer. Do you know what my nurse's name was? It was Concepcion. Pronounced Con-Cept-Tion. You know, as in to have impregnated or conceived. I thought to myself "Are you kidding me?" Only people who have suffered from infertility will understand what a cruel joke that is. Anyway, she was very nice and that's beside the point. By this time it was almost noon. T minus one hour until the procedure. I was reading a magazine, and all was going well. I had the room to myself, so it was pretty peaceful. That is until they brought me a roommate at around 12:30. She was a young girl in her mid twenties escorted by her mother. She talked a mile a minute and giggled at everything. Apparently everything is funny when you are being admitted to the hospital and are being asked a ton medical questions. Everything. That girl giggled a lot. There was a flurry of activity around her, getting her checked in and settled. Meanwhile it was like a ghost town on my side of the curtain. I was starting to feel as though I had been forgotten. By this time it was one-thirty. A half hour past my scheduled procedure. Joe was becoming impatient. I was too, but tried not to show it. By two'o'clock Joe was getting downright antsy, and called the nurse to find out what the holdup was. I was starving at this point, having fasted and all. The nurse came in and told us radiology was running a little behind, and it would only be another half hour or so. Only one and a half hours after they scheduled me, and three and a half hours since I had arrived at the hospital. At two-forty five Concepcion comes into my room and says "Please don't get mad at me". Huh? Immediately I'm thinking "No good can come from this." That is not the first thing I want my nurse to say when she walks into my room. She explains to me that I cannot have the biopsy done today. I immediately burst into tears. "What? What do you mean I can't have it done today? You people scheduled it for today! My tears turn quickly into heaving sobs, the kind where you can't catch your breath. I don't have an explanation for this behavior, except that I am due to start my period and am feeling very emotional. I was truly embarrased by my reaction. But I couldn't stop. The sobbing continued, and I was helpless to stop it. At this point both the nurse and my husband plead with me to calm down, as my neck is turning all shades of red and the nurse is afraid it is hives. I try to breathe. But I can't. I can tell the nurse is taken aback by my (over)reaction to this news. She is also very sympathetic. She tells us that someone from radiology will be coming straight down to explain the situation to us. A few minutes later another nurse from radiology walks into the room. She sees me sobbing, the nurse trying to comfort me, and my husband looking like he might just kill the next person who walks into the room. Boy does she have her work cut out for her. I managed to calm down enough to listen to her explanation of why I can't have my ssheduled procedure today. Apparently when the hospital does a biopsy, they have the sample sent out to a lab at another location. To get the sample where it is supposed to go, they use a courier service. Long story short, the courier service was closed today for Memorial Day weekend. There was nobody there to take my sample to the lab. A piece of information that the radiologist had only just found out, at 2:30 p.m. So if radiology hadn't been running behind and I had my biopsy done at eleven when it was scheduled, I would have had to do it again. Thank God for small miracles! Upon hearing this information, my husband about came unglued. He was furious. He really let her have it. I don't recall exactly what he said, but I know the word "unprofessional" was used, as well as "highly inconvenienced" and "unneccesary emotional trauma". That nurse's hands were shaking by the time he was done. I was embarrased, but secretly so glad that I had him there to stand up for me. Otherwise I would have just sat there crying, saying it was O.K., that I could come back another time, and please excuse me for this emotional outburst(things I was saying already). I explained to the nurse that we are in the process of adopting a child, and that this was really holding us up, and that's why I had become so emotional. Finally the nurse left to let me get dressed. I began to cry again, and asked Joe why are we hitting obstacles at every turn in this adoption process? What if this never happens? What if it wasn't meant to be? He assured me that wasn't true, and this was just a delay. To which I answered "We've had four years of delay. I'm tired of delays." Oh, by the way, of course my roomate and her daughter heard the whole thing. As we walked by her on our way to the door, the mother turns to me and says "I just wanted to tell you to not give up. It is worth the delay. I have two adopted children, and it is so worth the delay." And I know that she is right. But it is still disheartening. So I'm scheduled(again) to have the biopsy done on Tuesday morning. First thing. The radiology nurse said it was her day off, but that she would even come in on that day and make it her personal mission that everything went off as planned. This calmed Joe down a little. I will have to miss a couple more days of work. This will not make my boss happy in the least. But I can't wait anymore. I need to have this done with so we can begin treating whatever it is I have. So it was a wasted day, in terms of medical progress. But not a complete waste. Because I got to have lunch and see a movie with my husband, who takes such good care of me and is my greatest advocate. Not such a wasted day after all.