We got to Swedish about 9:30 and were pleasantly surprised to find the parking garage directly across from the doctor's office and hospital was free.
We walked into the doc's place at 9:45 and the woman looked at me quizzically as I signed in. She looked up my name and said, "You're supposed to be at the Littleton office for your ultrasound at 10:00."
Now, they'd called and left a message on my machine saying they were confirming my appointment the day before and said the Littleton office, which didn't match at all the forms they had mailed me saying I was doing everything at the Swedish office. So I'd called back and was told, "oh, no, you're definitely at the Swedish office."
Now the receptionist informs me that their ultrasound tech doesn't work at their office in the mornings.
So, am I supposed to be seeing Dr. Watt at 10:40 at the Littleton office too?
No, she's here.
Ok, so I was scheduled to have a half hour ultrasound at 10:00 at an office half an hour away and then scheduled to meet with the doctor 10 minutes later in this office?
This was not the way I'd wanted to start out the day.
The receptionist got on the phone immediately with the scheduler, who got on the phone with me and apologized profusely, and said she was trying to reach the ultrasound tech and we would work it out. Could I possibly come at 5:00 for the ultrasound?
Um, no. I live half an hour from here and I need to get home and get back to work after my 1:00 appointment with the hospital, not sit around for several more hours to do this half hour thing we were set up to do NOW.
They managed to move up my consult with Dr. Watt to 10:15 and set up the ultrasound for 12:15.
Dr. Watt did an exam and went over all the plans for surgery, I asked her my list of questions, and then signed off on the release that basically spelled out all of the disastrous consequences you can have from surgery and general anesthesia. She suggested Benadryl for the sleep issues and she promised to take pictures of Squishy for me, as long as I reminded her the morning of the surgery. I'm thinking I'll just tape a sign to my belly for her. I mentioned if she got very bored waiting on pathology to finish up their look at Squishy, she was welcomed to try her hand at a tummy tuck while they waited. She's scheduled to be assisted by a very experienced, newly retired urologist, which is a good guy to have when you're dealing with scraping off the uterus from other organs like the bladder. I got copies of all my orders to take with me to the hospital in case they couldn't find them the morning of the surgery so we wouldn't get help up, and asked for the script for pain meds I would need post-op so we could get those filled now instead of in the whirlwind of getting released to go home. Yay, percocet.
Then we had an hour to kill before the ultrasound and I asked the ladies at the front desk where a good place in walking distance might be. Turns out a new place called The Copper Pot just opened up across the street.
Bob is "checking us in" on Facebook here:
The place reminded me a lot of the NY spots -- not very wide but stretching far back away from the street. You pretty much see the whole width of the place from this shot. The food was good -- I had the Copper Cobb salad, Bob had the meatloaf sandwich, and then indulged in their homemade coconut cream pie. Yum.
The day was gorgeous, bright and sunshiny and we enjoyed a few minutes outdoors before going back up for the ultrasound. Mary, the ultrasound technician, was great. She explained everything we were seeing on the screen. Unlike the ultrasound and MRI done at the other place, she immediately found and pictured my ovaries, saying they look perfect and far away from the problem areas. I am the proud owner of anti-social ovaries.
I also got to see Squishy up close, albeit in black and white. He's not very pretty, and the top of him is filled with fluid, which she demonstrated by pushing the wand up and down and making him dance. He falls into the "large" category of fibroids, although he's not your typical fibroid in his consistency or presentation, which is the real reason for all of this cancer scare.
And, it turns out, he's got Squishylettes for company. At first we were thinking they were conjoined twin Squishylettes, one almost on top of the other, but the 'lette at the back is more like the Fruit of the Loom bunch of grapes guy and the one at the front is not. They both fall into the "medium" side category of fibroids and are definitely fibroids, no liquid inside.
After the ultrasound, we had 15 minutes to get next door to Swedish Medical to complete the pre-admissions appointment.
They'd mailed me a batch of forms to have completed beforehand. My favorite part Bob snapped a picture of before we handed it over:
And we ponied up the hospital co-pay, signed more forms, and met with the nurse who took the same vitals I'd just had taken an hour earlier, went over a lot of the stuff I'd just gone over with my doctor, and drew some blood. After that, it was a quick trip to drop off the Percocet prescription and get Benadryl (and slippers!) and then home to work until, oh, just about 10 minutes before I started recounting the day here.
T-minus 38 hours!
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