Not The Horse I Came In On

10 Sep

My GP sent me to the local hospital (NOT the one that treated me for my stroke, thanks be to God) for a consultation with a sleep specialist. I’ve had two overnight studies, and he really couldn’t see any reason for a third. The question was whether or not a nasal cannula would work as well as a CPAP machine, which I cannot tolerate.  The short answer is No, and the “sleepologist” wants me to come in for another overnight sleep study, to see just how much my apnea has changed.

I had asked The Squire if he noticed that I stopped breathing during the night, but he says once he falls asleep, he’s not aware of anything. In fact, I told the doctor that because The Squire also has apnea, I had always thought it was normal. Who knew?

The map they sent me shows the interior of the hospital very clearly, but has no outside reference points. Which side of the building faces Rossville Boulevard. Where is Hospital Drive? Nothing. It’s like a floor plan of my house; you can find your way to the bathroom, but you still don’t know where I live.

My left leg is giving me absolute fits. I don’t know if it is from the pinched nerve, the stroke, or a combination if the two, but walking any distance is excruciating. My foot hurts and my leg keeps folding up. I got to the hospital, finally found an entrance, and got pointed in the right direction. If I’d had my wits about me, I’d have grabbed a wheelchair in  the lobby, but I staggered off to the office under my own steam.

After my sleep study was scheduled the receptionist called Transportation to have a wheel chair brought up so I wouldn’t have to walk to the entrance.  I told the fellow I didn’t remember seeing any of the things we passed on the way down the hall, and the trip seemed much longer.  He deposited me in an area I did not recognize, and insisted “this is where you came in”.  Ooh-kay.

I walked outside into a totally unfamiliar place. Absolutely NO idea where I was, where I’d parked my car, or how I was ever going to get there. Fortunately, two ladies in scrubs were walking across the drive, and one came over to say I looked lost, and did I need some help. I told her I had gotten turned around inside the hospital and described where I’d parked. “Oh, goodness! That’s way too far to walk, especially in your condition and in this heat. If you don’t mind getting into a car with a stranger, I’ll drive you to the parking lot.”

Bless her heart, she drove me all the way to the far end of the hospital campus, to the lot where I had parked my car. I wish the fellow with the wheelchair had paid as much attention as she did. I don’t know her name, but she was my guardian angel this afternoon.

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