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Further adventures
Sep. 29th, 2019 04:09 pmDid not die of dehydration overnight. Conked out around 9. Was awakened for meds and stats around midnight. Had the aforementioned argument (I take buspirone at bedtime, not bupropion, and this is bupropion).
Slept until about 3am.
Conked out again around 6.
Woke up for a chat with the doctor, who explained the high level concept on the stress test. That was 8:30ish, and we had a short misunderstanding about where the white noise was coming from (my phone, not the tv remote).
From where he's sitting, I am at relatively low risk for actual heart attack given my age, Dad not starting his heart problems until later, and my not being amab or a smoker.
Waited around, got permission to drink small amounts of water, got cleaned up and braided and brushed my teeth. No shower because we don't get those without doctor's orders. The cleansing foam is unsatisfying.
Belovedest arrived.
The 11:30 transport time came and went. It was 12:30 by the time they came for me. I was trying to look up how long without food would be considered neglectful in a situation of dependency when they did show. An enby's got to have a few hobbies.
The nukes had expired by this time. So I got to have some other stuff and lie still on a scanner bed while a right-angle rotated around me. Which means I'm still here in the morning. And while I'm scheduled first thing, I'll still miss my interview.
Lying there was tedious and my usual distraction of writing wasn't working, so I decided to count ceiling tiles. I calculated the number in my range of vision. Then I counted what I could see, including partial tiles. Then I calculated what percentage of the ceiling was being obscured. By the time I had figured it was about 30%, it had reduced to 25%.
Belovedest left for home when I left for testing.
The nuclear medicine guy wheeled me back up, which took less time than waiting for the official wheelchair guy.
Lunch was... Well. Perhaps next time the grilled sandwich will not be marinated in the juice from the broccoli.
The pronoun struggle is a thing. Today's nurse is giving it her best. I believe in her!
Slept until about 3am.
Conked out again around 6.
Woke up for a chat with the doctor, who explained the high level concept on the stress test. That was 8:30ish, and we had a short misunderstanding about where the white noise was coming from (my phone, not the tv remote).
From where he's sitting, I am at relatively low risk for actual heart attack given my age, Dad not starting his heart problems until later, and my not being amab or a smoker.
Waited around, got permission to drink small amounts of water, got cleaned up and braided and brushed my teeth. No shower because we don't get those without doctor's orders. The cleansing foam is unsatisfying.
Belovedest arrived.
The 11:30 transport time came and went. It was 12:30 by the time they came for me. I was trying to look up how long without food would be considered neglectful in a situation of dependency when they did show. An enby's got to have a few hobbies.
The nukes had expired by this time. So I got to have some other stuff and lie still on a scanner bed while a right-angle rotated around me. Which means I'm still here in the morning. And while I'm scheduled first thing, I'll still miss my interview.
Lying there was tedious and my usual distraction of writing wasn't working, so I decided to count ceiling tiles. I calculated the number in my range of vision. Then I counted what I could see, including partial tiles. Then I calculated what percentage of the ceiling was being obscured. By the time I had figured it was about 30%, it had reduced to 25%.
Belovedest left for home when I left for testing.
The nuclear medicine guy wheeled me back up, which took less time than waiting for the official wheelchair guy.
Lunch was... Well. Perhaps next time the grilled sandwich will not be marinated in the juice from the broccoli.
The pronoun struggle is a thing. Today's nurse is giving it her best. I believe in her!
