If It Wasn't for Bad Luck . . .

...as the blues tune goes..."If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all."

Or so it seems to go sometimes in life. You roll with the punches.

I, like everyone at some point, seem to have bad luck at medical facilities of all shape and size. There was the four-hour wait. And there was the three-hour wait. There also was the time the surgeon asked me right before anesthesia, "So which kidney are we going after?"

Today was one of those days.

First I went to a clinic between Mt. Joy and Elizabethtown for bloodwork. The very amicable and skilled nurse poked me once in the left arm. She had the butterfly needle. She saw my name (I'm there every week now) and she pulled out the smallest needle.

For whatever reason my veins are tiny in the morning. Then, by afternoon my veins are their typical huge size. I know that it does not help that it is 15-degrees below zero inside the clinic.

She couldn't get the needle into the vein. (That's one stick.)

She quickly moved to the right arm. She was determined.

She hit a vein with the second stick. (That's two sticks overall.) She took two or three tubes. I don't know. It doesn't bother me. But I would rather not watch.

"See 'ya next week," we exchanged merrily and Barb and I were off to the Women's and Babies' Hospital for a CT scan of the chest, pelvis and abdomen.

Women's and Babies' Hospital?

Yes. Women's and Babies' Hospital.

Soon I was surrounded by young, pregnant women. I registered. I confirmed my personal information. I sat. They called me back to the CT room.

A very nice, skilled nurse positioned me on the scanner bed and went in for a quick IV set-up. She pricked me in the left arm (That's three sticks.) and got nothing. She tried again on the right arm (That's four sticks.) and again nothing. She tried once more on the right hand, and once again it's a no go. (That's five sticks.)

The nurse called someone in the radiology department at the neighboring Health Campus facility. A few minutes later, another nurse came-in and went at my right hand. GOT IT! The quick IV is set-up to get a good dose of "contrast dye" into my system to get my insides to light up. (That's the sixth and final needle stick.)

The CT technician provides me with some guidance and instructions. A lady's voice from inside the CT machine asks me to "Breathe in. Ok blow it out. Breathe in. Now hold it."

The bed slowly starts to move me through the scanner and the scanner dies in a slow, spinning hum.

Well from this point the technician tried to address the issue. After a good 10-minutes of that she called someone who gave her a tip. She tried something else for a good 15-minutes and then called someone again. The nurse from the neighboring Health Campus returned a few minutes later. They tried stuff, this and that. I don't know I'm laying half-way through the scanner bed with the IV thingie in the back of my hand.

Evidently there was an electrical hick-up that shut the scanner down to a point where no one on hand knew how to turn it back on again.

I don't blame the CT techs. They were just having a bad luck day.

So, from halfway through one scanner I was manually wheeled out of the scanner and jumped off the bed. I was on my way next door to the Health Campus for my scan now. So we drove over next door, with my little IV thingie wrapped up with some sticky gauze tape.

Before long I was in for a quick CT scan. And I didn't have to get stuck by a needle again because I came "pre-stuck."

Quick Note:
The daunting idea of giving Freckles pills twice a day was quickly resolved by a coincidental conversation with my Mom. "Try 'Pill Pockets' you can get them from the vet," she advised.

They're working. Freckles is looking forward to his "treats" every day now. So far so good.

Man, how do Moms always know this stuff.

Thanks Mom!