I finally got that pesky line removed from my chest. Turns out it was never going to grow a nipple and without that it was just silly looking. I got a call from Tiffany at the Surgi-center and she scheduled me for 2 PM on Wednesday, but after doing that, she called back and said Dr. Harvey was pretty adamant about getting it out TODAY, Tuesday. So she said 3 PM and they'd squeeeeze me in. Cool. So I got there on time and parked on the 3rd floor of a medical building parking lot, only to find a bridge right to their front door. How cool! About 15 minutes later, a nurse came to the door and called my name as well as another man with a walker, who proceeded to race me to the door. I could have beat him, but why? We went inside and she asked me my birthday and I got pretty excited thinking just maybe they were throwing me a birthday party, but no. The old guy in the walker was born in 1924. I just got beaten by an 88 year old, the bastard! He probably went home and bragged to his wife that he beat out a mere kid of 66.
They sent us to private dressing rooms and we were told to remove everything from the waist up and to put on the gowns. Shit, I HATE the gowns! Then there were blue things to put on over my thongs and a funny looking shower cap to keep my hair from infecting everyone. I yelled through the door to the pretty nurse that sent me in there, "Do I put the blue things on over my thongs"? She yelled back, "No they're for your shoes"! HUH? I yelled back, "Not that kind of thong!"
At some point, after a brief history of me, they all gathered around to see what I had and it caused a great deal of confusion. It was determined that it was a mere PICC line, but they decided to get the medical description from the surgeon that installed it and that took forever. I heard one nurse say, "Should we even take him into the room"? I suggested using the "room" because the parking lot was full. Believe it or not, sometimes my sarcasm is not appreciated by anyone but me. This was probably one of those times. More time went by when a woman that claimed to be a doctor approached me and from her looks and accent, I couldn't determine if she were Asian or Middle Eastern. I also couldn't determine what she was saying. Finally it was conveyed to me that they were trying to determine how long the line was, so they were sure to get it all. Seemed like a good idea to me. Okay, show time!
I was escorted by 2 of the prettiest young ladies to what was referred to as the "Room" and it was frickin' freezing in there. If my PICC line had had a nipple, it would have been at full mast! I asked the temperature and was told it was 53 degrees. And me with no shirt! I laid down on what was the operating table and my feet were higher than my head and the whole damned thing was freezing cold. More waiting, still no report on my crazy line. Finally the Asian/Middle Eastern doctor lady came in and said, no Lidocain will be needed. Just what I wanted to hear. I'd had another one of these things removed once and it hurt like hell. Then she puts a towel over my right side of my face and I'm instructed to look the other way. I suspect this is because I won't be able to identify them in court. Let the hurting begin. I refused to make a single sound, although it was just like being cut without any numbing agent. I could feel warm blood running down my side until it was wiped by the nurse. Suddenly the doctor lady asked for Lidocain......finally! But it never got a chance to work, as she continued. After about 5 or 7 minutes, I heard her say, "All done". What a relief, I had winced so much my face was permanently wrinkled and that's my story and I'm stinking to it!
It turns out it was a good thing they didn't let Monkey Girl Carol remove it, as it was a different sort of line. It was a cuffed PICC line and no one had ever seen one before. I explained that the surgeon that put it in was from out of state and that seemed to pacify the nurses.