August 5, 2006
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Monday, Bloody Monday
His shallow panting made me peek. His chest lifted and sagged, lifted and sagged, curried carbon dioxide dumping, lumping from his plump purple lips.“Are you really sleepy or are you just the most relaxed person on earth?” Dr. Sehgal jested.
I felt the lower curve of my left breast jiggle and pull as the scalpel scrapped and prodded the numbed flesh of my upper-chest, “Neither. I’m trying to be Zen—I get grossed out really easily.”
“You are doing just fine.” With no wood to knock on, my dermatologist reminded the great Murphy to enact his insidious Law. I dry-heaved. Wharf!
“Do you need a container? Are you going to vomit?” He asked, backing away from my over-active gag reflex.
“Actually, I think I am going to pass out.”Deep in the recesses of my subconscious, all was left behind: my dainty cute beauty mark turned sinister mole, the heavy-breathing doctor who was removing it, the white hum of the doctors office, the entire world. I was swimming with sweet fishes in dark lake water, unafraid, cooled, brave. I swam to my mom who had news for me. She had another job interview soon. Isn’t that great? It is mom. It is. I swim on, deeper still, and I am with Shaun and we are trying to figure out the best way to ride the upcoming waterfall together without loosing each other in the whirlpools below. We are not worried. We joke about how we probably should be. And then…
…a white room. People. Doctors. A cup of juice.
“Drink this. Even if you don’t want to, you need to drink this.”
I am a good girl. I’ve always been a good girl. I know this. It is the thing I know. I drink it with confused, timid sips. I am not ready. I lay back down. I breathe.“Is this the doctors?” I say it aloud and suddenly I know where I am, “Oh yeah.” I continue, “Was I out for long? It felt like forever.” They are putting an ice pack on my forehead. I hate it. Why don’t they know my sweat is cold?
“Have you been tested for seizures?”
“Yes. But I don’t have them. I have Vaso Vagal Syncope. I got tested—it was all checked out. I just pass out a lot.” He was irritating me. I wished he would have been hacking away at my chest while I was unconscious so I could awake and everything would be settled and finished. I wanted to go back to sleep.“You are out for an uncommonly long time.”
“I usually am.”
“Your eyelids flutter.”
“Yeah. My face in repose tends to be pretty weird.”
“You may be having mini-seizures.”Blood was coming back to my face in searing pinpricks. I was aggravated under my cloud of disorientation that this doctor was choosing such an inopportune time to tell me he thinks I have seizures. My breasts were lollygagging out in the open, blood trickling down my left curve, a half-removed sinister mole flapping in the breeze—what kind of time was this to try to talk about anything, let alone seizures?!? Besides, I’ve been through this already—I’ve been tested extensively just to make sure. I just pass out. My mom does it to. It’s just what we do.
The doctor relented and the needle and thread went in, went out. Black stitch. One stitch, two stitch, three stitch. More? I let myself think of only the dark, cool lake water. I let myself only be there.
After I was out of my appointment and Vakadin happy, my mom and I had a phone chat. The same time I had passed out, she was on the phone with a prospective empoyer, scheduling an interview. Psycic? Who knows. But it is way more fun to think I am. ::smile::
All week I’ve been baby-ing my little wound. The pain is cinching and biting every now and again, but the real bummer is that I can’t exercise or lift anything remotely heavy until August 16, otherwise I risk popping my stitches, which is not only grotesque, but would also increase the chance that instead of a nice, smooth line scar, I would get a goiter-type lump of a scar. Yuck.
So I’ll be playing it cool for the rest of the summer. It makes me happy that I took advantage of the warmth and the sun and the rolling blue skies while I could. Plus, September is usually pretty warm still. September is perfect, actually.
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Have you ever acted like a dork in a doctor’s office?
::Random Tangent::
Yesterday was great. I got to go in to work late to run my last First Fridays and in the leisurely space of the morning, I fell in love with three new things: a novel called Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart, a movie called Baby, It’s Cold Outside in Wolfin issue #2, and a new French singer named Camille whose CD, Le Fil I promptly bought on iTunes after hearing an NPR interview with her. All are incredibly, impressivly, engrossingly good.
What have you fallen for lately? Also, I have to write an official letter of resignation for my HR department. Any tips on how to write a good one?
Comments (7)
Glad it seems to have gone well, your passing out notwithstanding. Hope it is a speedy recovery.In my professional capacities, I’ve generally told my employers directly when I moved on to another job, thus a letter was not necessary (but then the college is the first place of substance I’ve worked that even has an HR department). I would think the letter would be complimentary, mentioning a few things you’ve learned, noting the great opportunity you are pursuing, and ending with some kind of thanks.
Thanks, Tim! It’s weird–I told them directly in a nice little meeting, but when I spoke with HR they needed an actual letter to keep on file. Bizzare. Your tips are great–thanks!
Damn, I love the way you tell a story. I get inot it like it’s good fiction and then realize that it’s not and really, you are so good to read. Sorry about that experience, it has to be annoying everytime to explain that. I also would prefer those deep recesses to the immediate scalpel.And you did seem to enjoy your summer too. There is still much warmth after the 16th and you’ll have time to get back into those rolling blue skies again.My sister is an HR director for her company but that company is Lowe’s so any tips I could get from her might not fit exactly. What Tim said in his last sentence seems like a smart idea. Such a positive letter leaves the door open just in case. You never know, you might be back or someone might need you to recommend them and new folks might just refer to the files to get an impression. Something tell me you can leave an excellent one.Oh hecks yeah! I have been a dork in an office. I am a dental phobic (working on it though) and have cowered in the corner of a couple dentists’ offices weeping and sitting in fetal position. That hasn’t happened in years, but it is memorable.Thanks for the tips of the things you fell in love with. I find so many good things from people’s reviews. Will be checking those out.
Oh darnit! I forgot! ryc: Thank you very much for both comments. I am currently seeking a way to bottle the good days. Serveral people have suggested chardonnay.
I don’t remember making a fool of myself, but I have had that exact same procedure done. Basil cell right between my breasts. Someone once asked me if I had been stabbed by an ice pick. Nope, just the scar from a mole the size of a … of a teeny tiny dot.
Don’t get me started on doctors’ offices. I have, too often, been the victim of medical care.As for the HR letter, keep it very short and very to the point. Relationships are relationships; HR is HR. Don’t confuse the two. To HR, you just write, “Dear X” (or “To whom it concerns”), This is to notify you that I will be leaving my position as [X] on [date]. My forwarding address is [address] and any future correspondence should be addressed there. I am grateful for the opportunity I have been afforded at [company]. Sincerely,…”The last sentence is technically unnecessary, but it keeps the letter from seeming angry. Now, if you got along at all with the people you actually work for, that is, your manager, you should write a note telling them how much you enjoyed working with them, recalling a specific example or two of something you valued, and expressing the hope that you have the opportunity to interact with them again in the future.Remember, HR departments don’t do the hiring; managers do. HR departments are there to protect the company’s interests (and therefore side with management over workers). You don’t have to be nasty, but your relationship is with your co-workers. HR is *just* business (think “The Godfather” : – )
the letter: short and to the point. nothing they can use against you at any point.
sorry for your ordeal.