It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This
Nov. 19th, 2002 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dielloI am really starting to doubt if this is worth $650.
I am sticky with EKG wires. This is the most uncomfortable study I've done yet. I have this feeling that donating my eggs is going to be not much higher on the discomfort scale (although I know this is cake compared to it).
I decided to take a bus rather than my usual 45 minute bike ride up that nasty hill in this cold weather.
The first thing I had to do was my blood pressure. The nursey person (though she's far from a nurse) Donna had left air in it from a previous used and she couldn't get my reading right until she let the air out.
Then, off with my shirt ands bra, I had to get the EKG thingies attached. And of course she had to have a problem with that too. A few of the stickers were dry, so she had to replace them. And it wasn't that simple to replace the ones that didn't work, oh no. It was more like "let's push real hard on this one that's right on the sensitive part on your boobied and then if it still doesn't work, I'll replace it twice, because I'm a dumb bitch". But wait, there's more. More? Much more! "Maybe if this one's replaced, the others might work again," ah, ya dumb fuck!!! So the replacement procedure repeats itself.
Now who's this frightening person coming up? Yay! Now I get my blood drawn! This would have been no problem if she hadn't mistaken my fidgity arm for nerves instead of not wanting my hand rubbing up against her snatchy area. It seemed the more I tried to avoid it, the more she tried to get fisted. Damn, why is everyone always trying to get a piece of my action!?!?
Somewhere among here are repeated questions from Donna, and a ten or so question survey, which wasn't the one I was suppose to fill out. Guess who the dumb fuck was that gave me the wrong one?
I had several breathing tests done after the first blood drawing. The first one was pretty cool because I got to be locked into an air tight chamber which kinda reminded me of a see-thru isolation tank or a time machine or something. But the doctor was an ass. He made me pant, and was panting along with me like some kind of pervert. I thought he reminded me of a child psychologist. Fucking fagidodo.
Then I had to push water through a tube and sustain it's position to a certain level for the duration of my breath. The procedure goes: exhale all your air and raise your finger (this is the mark, as I am doing all these tests through a tube in my mouth), Donna will immediately turn a handle so I may properly inhale as much as I can before she closes the duct, hold my breath, and exhale, pushing the liquid up the tube to the designated mark and keeping it there until she says okay. Well, on one initial exhale, I lifted my finger, and she didn't shift the gage for me to inhale. Suffering a bit, I inhaled quickly and exhaled as she finally shifted it and I couldn't inhale a sufficiant amount of air, thus fucking up that round. Donna blamed me for not exhaling everything and lifting my finger (which I did). Also she said I waved my finger around. Um, yeah, because you obviously didn't do anything when I lifted it, I figured you didn't see it, you dumb bitch!!! I was really enraged by this. Really!
So, next was breathing through a tube while peddling on an excersise bike. This is why I didn't bike to the hospital. The person who monitored me was pretty cool.
First I had to sit on the bike while breathing through the tube for 15 minutes. Then I had to breathe and pedal for 15 more, while I kept the needle between the 60 and 80 on the gage. This was pretty easy after the first five minutes when I got my rythm. I got to rest for 15, then pedaled 15. I could taste the ultrafine particles after the second round. I got to release myself from the mouthpiece and nose clip and walked around the room for a few moments. Sat down, had a drink... "So," said Person, trying to start up a convo. Blablablabla... We talked about how much Donna sucks and loves to be right, and then I said "do you know a guy named Tom O'Dell?" "I don't think so... what does he look like?" "Like you." This guy looked a hell of a lot like tom, and sounded like him too. It was creepy. Not to say Tom's creepy, but they could be brothers!!! I couldn't get over it.
Anyway, after round 4 on the bike, I could really feel the pollution in my lungs and on the roof of my mouth. I got more blood drawn and another round of bloodflow monitoring, which consisted of an upper arm cuff, a lower arm rubber bandy looking thingy, and a wrist cuff. This is a fun procedure. I hear lots of loud clicky sounds, the pressure on the upper cuff goes up, down, up, down lightly with the clicks, then suddenly it snapps full throttle as tight as it goes for a few minutes without warning, then Donna says "this is going to get tight". Thanks. Then she tightened to wrist cuff so tight it squeezes my hand shut and I can feel the bones splintering (it seemed). Yes, the purpose is to cut off circulation. This is about a ten minute process, but I just get to lay there, which is nice. I nearly fell asleep the second time.
Then I got food. And of course it's all my fault that I never mentioned before that I was a vegetarian. First off, lady, I wasn't asked. Second, all the other studies I did gave me a choice of lunch. I ended up with grilled cheese, tomato soup, peaches from a can, a cookie and some orange juice. The woman who delivered it was really nice and made the meal herself (guess she works in the cafeteria). This was probably the highlight of the day.
Then I got to sit in a room for two and a half hours doing nothing and thought they'd forgotten me. Then back for more blood! And more blood monitoring. This time, it hurt and left a mark on me. OUCH! fuckers. After that I got to do one more breath test, and went home. HOME people, Home.
I went home with the stupid EKG stickers attached to me, and I had to get pictures done with my sisters later. The original plan was to be ourselves, but I clearly couldn't do that because I was covered in lots of white thingies up to my neck. So as soon as I got home, I searched the world (my room) for something that would look okay and cover everything (I also have an oxygen cuff on my finger), and all I could find was the one that made me look schoolgirlish.
Hospital Totals for one visit:
Hours: 9
Breathing Tests: 7
Hours of Exposure: 2
Blood Draws: 3
Blood Vials: 22
Good Guys: 3
Bad Guys: 3
EKG Stickers: 10
Bad Touches: 14
Boot Comments: 3
Donna Repeats Herself: Countless!
I've got to go through this again next month
I am sticky with EKG wires. This is the most uncomfortable study I've done yet. I have this feeling that donating my eggs is going to be not much higher on the discomfort scale (although I know this is cake compared to it).
I decided to take a bus rather than my usual 45 minute bike ride up that nasty hill in this cold weather.
The first thing I had to do was my blood pressure. The nursey person (though she's far from a nurse) Donna had left air in it from a previous used and she couldn't get my reading right until she let the air out.
Then, off with my shirt ands bra, I had to get the EKG thingies attached. And of course she had to have a problem with that too. A few of the stickers were dry, so she had to replace them. And it wasn't that simple to replace the ones that didn't work, oh no. It was more like "let's push real hard on this one that's right on the sensitive part on your boobied and then if it still doesn't work, I'll replace it twice, because I'm a dumb bitch". But wait, there's more. More? Much more! "Maybe if this one's replaced, the others might work again," ah, ya dumb fuck!!! So the replacement procedure repeats itself.
Now who's this frightening person coming up? Yay! Now I get my blood drawn! This would have been no problem if she hadn't mistaken my fidgity arm for nerves instead of not wanting my hand rubbing up against her snatchy area. It seemed the more I tried to avoid it, the more she tried to get fisted. Damn, why is everyone always trying to get a piece of my action!?!?
Somewhere among here are repeated questions from Donna, and a ten or so question survey, which wasn't the one I was suppose to fill out. Guess who the dumb fuck was that gave me the wrong one?
I had several breathing tests done after the first blood drawing. The first one was pretty cool because I got to be locked into an air tight chamber which kinda reminded me of a see-thru isolation tank or a time machine or something. But the doctor was an ass. He made me pant, and was panting along with me like some kind of pervert. I thought he reminded me of a child psychologist. Fucking fagidodo.
Then I had to push water through a tube and sustain it's position to a certain level for the duration of my breath. The procedure goes: exhale all your air and raise your finger (this is the mark, as I am doing all these tests through a tube in my mouth), Donna will immediately turn a handle so I may properly inhale as much as I can before she closes the duct, hold my breath, and exhale, pushing the liquid up the tube to the designated mark and keeping it there until she says okay. Well, on one initial exhale, I lifted my finger, and she didn't shift the gage for me to inhale. Suffering a bit, I inhaled quickly and exhaled as she finally shifted it and I couldn't inhale a sufficiant amount of air, thus fucking up that round. Donna blamed me for not exhaling everything and lifting my finger (which I did). Also she said I waved my finger around. Um, yeah, because you obviously didn't do anything when I lifted it, I figured you didn't see it, you dumb bitch!!! I was really enraged by this. Really!
So, next was breathing through a tube while peddling on an excersise bike. This is why I didn't bike to the hospital. The person who monitored me was pretty cool.
First I had to sit on the bike while breathing through the tube for 15 minutes. Then I had to breathe and pedal for 15 more, while I kept the needle between the 60 and 80 on the gage. This was pretty easy after the first five minutes when I got my rythm. I got to rest for 15, then pedaled 15. I could taste the ultrafine particles after the second round. I got to release myself from the mouthpiece and nose clip and walked around the room for a few moments. Sat down, had a drink... "So," said Person, trying to start up a convo. Blablablabla... We talked about how much Donna sucks and loves to be right, and then I said "do you know a guy named Tom O'Dell?" "I don't think so... what does he look like?" "Like you." This guy looked a hell of a lot like tom, and sounded like him too. It was creepy. Not to say Tom's creepy, but they could be brothers!!! I couldn't get over it.
Anyway, after round 4 on the bike, I could really feel the pollution in my lungs and on the roof of my mouth. I got more blood drawn and another round of bloodflow monitoring, which consisted of an upper arm cuff, a lower arm rubber bandy looking thingy, and a wrist cuff. This is a fun procedure. I hear lots of loud clicky sounds, the pressure on the upper cuff goes up, down, up, down lightly with the clicks, then suddenly it snapps full throttle as tight as it goes for a few minutes without warning, then Donna says "this is going to get tight". Thanks. Then she tightened to wrist cuff so tight it squeezes my hand shut and I can feel the bones splintering (it seemed). Yes, the purpose is to cut off circulation. This is about a ten minute process, but I just get to lay there, which is nice. I nearly fell asleep the second time.
Then I got food. And of course it's all my fault that I never mentioned before that I was a vegetarian. First off, lady, I wasn't asked. Second, all the other studies I did gave me a choice of lunch. I ended up with grilled cheese, tomato soup, peaches from a can, a cookie and some orange juice. The woman who delivered it was really nice and made the meal herself (guess she works in the cafeteria). This was probably the highlight of the day.
Then I got to sit in a room for two and a half hours doing nothing and thought they'd forgotten me. Then back for more blood! And more blood monitoring. This time, it hurt and left a mark on me. OUCH! fuckers. After that I got to do one more breath test, and went home. HOME people, Home.
I went home with the stupid EKG stickers attached to me, and I had to get pictures done with my sisters later. The original plan was to be ourselves, but I clearly couldn't do that because I was covered in lots of white thingies up to my neck. So as soon as I got home, I searched the world (my room) for something that would look okay and cover everything (I also have an oxygen cuff on my finger), and all I could find was the one that made me look schoolgirlish.
Hospital Totals for one visit:
Hours: 9
Breathing Tests: 7
Hours of Exposure: 2
Blood Draws: 3
Blood Vials: 22
Good Guys: 3
Bad Guys: 3
EKG Stickers: 10
Bad Touches: 14
Boot Comments: 3
Donna Repeats Herself: Countless!
I've got to go through this again next month
