Never Again...

Never again will I set foot inside the walls of Lake Norman Regional Hospital. I had to go there Friday for a CT scan of my jaw to rule out any bone infection, abscess or errant piece of root tip. This after having my wisdom teeth removed a month ago, followed by complications, another surgery, more complications, and a lot of pain. When I found out I had to go to Lake Norman for the CT scan (it was the only place the surgeon's office could get me in the next day) I knew I was going to need someone to come with me. I hadn't been back there since we rushed Owen there 10 months ago in shock (him not me), so sick, and unresponsive. Since that day when the doctors and nurses looked at Owen and said he was fine, looked at me and said I was a hysterical mother. Luckily we waited for our pediatrician and Owen received the proper care before being transferred to at *real* hospital. I made a decision that day that neither of my boys would be taken there for care ever again. Anyway, I figured there wasn't much they could do to mess up a CT scan, I just wasn't sure how I was going to be able to physically make myself walk into that building after everything that happened. The answer? Anxiety medicine and help from my sister.

I checked in at the front desk, situated in front of a waiting room that smelled awful and was accurately described by Ashley as a Labyrinth. Finally a volunteer came over and told me that the woman at window 2 would help me. We made our way over there, where a hospital employee was waiting to check me in for my procedure. Ok, I'd rather call it a test, but I wasn't going to get into semantics with this woman. All I knew was that if I needed to be treated in any way Ashley had strict orders to make sure I was taken to a different hospital. To make a very long story short, the woman could not find the orders from my doctor for the scan and the doctor's office was closed. I called him on his cell phone, which he didn't answer. I was so angry and so anxious, knowing that I could not possibly leave this place and then make myself come back on Monday or whenever they got the orders for my scan. It was now or never. As she had people looking for my scans she took my information.

Lady: Have you ever been here before?
Me: No.
Lady: Has anyone with the same address as you been here before?
Me: (Trying not to cry) Yes my son.
Lady: What is his name?
*At this point I'm sure this is all up on her screen since she has my license and insurance card, and frankly I don't want to talk about Owen.
Me: Owen
Lady: Are you the primary on this insurance?
Me: No my husband is, Wesley B.
Lady: What is his cell phone number?
Me: Why do you need that?
Lady: For and emergency contact.
*I pointed to Ashley, sitting next to me and said "She's here."
Lady: Well, in case you are ever brought here again.
Me: I won't be.
Lady: Well, like if you were in an accident you wouldn't have them bring you here?
Me and Ashley in stereo: No.
*Her phone started ringing just then so luckily we got to skip further questioning on the subject because I definitely would have told her exactly what I thought about the hospital and the treatment Little Man received there, but I'm glad I didn't have to.
Ashley: So you're telling me that she can't have the CT scan and we are supposed to just sit here and twiddle our thumbs until someone can get a hold of the doctor?
Me: I have had 2 oral surgeries in the last month and am in a great deal of pain, I need to have this CT scan done to rule certain things out.
Lady: Well, you could always go over to the ER...
Me and Ashley in stereo: Laughter...

Finally the lady "found" my orders. In other words they were sitting back there the whole time and some moron forgot where they put them. We were given directions to the imaging department, complete with an explanation that L,L,R means left, left, right. Thanks.

I checked in at imaging and signed some papers, making sure it was clear that I was only consenting to the CT scan and no other treatment. There was a sign there saying that "If you are pregnant or think you might be pregnant please inform the technologist." Ashley and I weren't sure that technologist was actually a word. I've always been under the impression that the proper term is radiology technician. A little research on our phones while waiting and we found out that yes technologist is a word, just not the proper one in this context.

This is also when I found out that it was to be done with IV contrast. Awesome, I hate that stuff. We waited in that waiting room for an hour and a half. I finally went back for my scan and the "technologist" started my IV. I told him that last time I had this done I got sick afterward. Not an allergic reaction, I just got flushed, sick to my stomach and vomited. He told me he was going to slow the drip of the IV to help prevent that. Yeah, didn't work. Again, shortly after feeling the awful warm feeling spread throughout my insides, I started feeling sick. It was all I could do to be still for the rest of the test. As soon as they were done I was searching for a trash can. The guy's boss, the head of imaging, came in with wet wash cloths and was trying to help me. She told me to lay down for a few minutes because I was looking very white. The guy left the room and when he walked back in said, "I wish I could lay down." I said, "Yeah, I wish I could inject you with dye." He wasn't amused, but his boss definitely was.

Now I just wait until probably Monday when the doctor calls to tell me what the scan showed about my jaw.

Like I said, never again will I allow myself to even be scanned at Lake Norman Regional Hospital.