I went to the hospital by myself so Sweetie could work. They don't allow anyway for relatives to hang around. In the morning I was cared for by a nurturing nurse. She kept calling me sayang which is a bahasa term of endearment. I'm not sure if she's from Malaysia or Indonesia. She tucked me in with a blanket and told me to rest. I complied haha.
It was a few hours later when I was finally brought to the OT by chariot, I mean by hospital bed. I was wheeled by an uncle and a friendly Pinoy nurse who reassured me every step of the way. We wheezed through wards and a maze of hallways to get to the other building. Never saw so many different types of ceilings in one ride haha.
Eventually met the doctor who was going to poke me today. He was so full of energy and positive vibes. My kind of doctor! I knew he'd take care of me well. The theater team were also all in high spirits.
I was awake throughout the procedure and it wasn't scary. At some point the doctor shushed the team outside because they were noisy. I didn't know why he suddenly became serious so I just prayed. It was soon over and the doctor told me it was harder than he thought it would be, but he was able to get what he needed. Hopefully it will solve the question of my doctors.
Why am I sharing this? Unlike our favorite medical dramas, getting diagnosed and treated realistically doesn't happen at a snap of a finger. Usually doctors refer to a norm based on your gender, age group and ethnicity. The challenge happens when you don't fit the model. That's how my original respiratory doctor missed diagnosing my ginormous clots. So it's really important to advocate for yourself.
On the other hand, be ready also for unsolved mysteries. Just leave it to God to heal in His time.
CB///*Yr2/151 #StuckAtHomeDay/Yr2/174 #NewG296 #Home54 #Xmas107 #StayHome #BeKind
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