Or if you're squeemish and ever entertained any romantic feelings for
me whatsoever and want to maintain a pristine mental image of my
fabulousness for cold Winter nights
(when I'm not there... remember there-is-no-chance-whatsoever, but thankyou 
) 
Ah, Insomnia.
So at some point todayish I'm hopefully heading off...and even more
hopefully arriving at... a somewhat distant (to a non-driver who is
dead broke with no transportation options, and has no idea how to
accomplish this) hospital, to have about
$10,000 of high tech medical hardware
dug out of my side, where it currently sits CAUSING FKING EXCRUTIATING
PAIN nestled between layers of my pearly white flesh atop one slim rib.
Attached to said beaucoup-expensive chunk of titanium and plastic is
about 14 inches of silicone catheter, running under layers of my skin
only deep enough to make people ask if I have some weird blue tattoo on
my shoulder... or if I raise my arm, one weird-ass scar were it
tightens with the movement to cause a crease in the curve of my chest.
The blue-shadow of said catheter hops over the tip of one collarbone
and seemingly ends under a small scar in the hollow of my throat
between the two tips of the bones.... but in reality takes a nosedive
through my skin into the major vessal dead ending it ending directly
inside my heart.
Said device sits concealed (hah) under my
skin unless accessed by a nifty right angled needle attached to a short
IV line, which I have to jam into my side, through my skin, through a
septum of some man made material, into the cup-like reservoir inside
the device, leading into the internal catherter, leading into ME.
Whatever drugs my doctor thinks needs to be injected are then injected,
without having to have an IV started and the far greater trauma of
having a badly practiced nurse fish around in my arm/wrist/hand trying
to find a less-battered vein to shove her hollow-toothpick into. (Or
worse, once they punched both jugular veins.... by the way, for that
reason and others,
don't ever touch my neck. Thanks.)
(certain exceptions may apply, but if they ever do, you'll know 
) Freaky. Gross.
Sort of Cool.
While I was walking-dead, broke and serially stranded in 3 major
California cities a short week and a half ago, I became mainly
concerned about the damage I'd done to both ankles and the wicked black
bruise wrapped around one calf from many hours pounding (followed by
stumbling and finally something closer to dragging, in best imitation
of the living-dead) my wounded feet on unyielding concrete in search
of, variously, a payphone, a bank, warmth/coolth/shelter/any non-toxic
liquid beverage (note: there are no payphones in downtown San Jose.
Don't even try looking for them. They don't exist.... and the Wells
Fargo is hidden on an odd one way street that dead ends into a
Starbucks, but no one will tell you that. If they had payphones, maybe
you could call WF's 800 number and find out where the branch was....
but nOOooooo).
Granted, when I finally got my boots off for
the first time (after two days and many cities) I was pretty freaked
out and shocked by the state of what sort of
looked like a foot
at the end of a leg, but where the ankle had been replaced by something
the size of a grapefruit (it seemed) with large red and purple marks
bruised over the lower 16 inches of it, surmounted by a 4x8" black mark
that looked like someone attacked me with a giant Sharpie, and I'm
still not clear on how it arrived where it did on my calf. Probably,
carrying my bags over my shoulder on that side had placed weird
stresses on me (besides the obvious marks where they kept banging into
tender bits). I know it had far more effect on me than I knew at that
time....
Which brings me back to the wonderous piece of
engineering I've never actually seen in person but get to experience
first hand every minute of my days, especially if I roll over on that
side weird and land on top of it.
Don't. I repeat. DON'T.
EVER. FORGET. If you have above described equipment in your chest, NOT
to sling an overnight bag over your shoulder, no matter how much pain
you're in or whether you're convinced you're going to die on the street
of heat exhaustion and have no other choice. No matter how bruised raw
the OTHER shoulder has become from having it situated on that side
exclusively up until that moment. Lay down and DIE instead if you have
to, but don't forget when over stressing or impacting flesh over a tiny
plasticky tube under 1/4" of skin THAT YOU'LL PROBABLY BREAK THE DAMN
THING.
And it can hurt. A lot. Especially if it doesn't show
any damage for a few days and then sort of "lets go" while you're
injecting what is apparently a highly caustic medication through said
tube, and it ends up bubbled up inside your skin instead. Ow. Fking. Ow.
So, why do I have this thing, how does it work, and what do I do with it...
Sheesh, that's awfully personal ;p
Okay, okay...
1) I got bit by a tick and had Lyme Disease really bad (REALLY BAD)
some years back, and had to be on heavy duty IV antibiotics for a LONG
time.
2) Whatever the hell they pumped into me while I was catatonic/comatose for 4 years.
3) The entire family I grew up with seemingly has Hemochromatosis (Iron-overload in their blood), EXCEPT ME.
This supports the suspicion that I was switched at birth and somewhere
some poor semi-Gothic family of night dwelling artisans is raising a
beer swilling pot smoking Nascar-obsessed redneck (or child who will
inevitably marry one). I have the opposite (Iron-deficiency). I didn't
really have a problem with it until recently (ie, the coma and in it's
latter days extended starvation when my obsessed stalker infiltrated my
home health care and basically tried to kill me for not listening when
God told him I would marry him (yes, REALLY. That's what obsessed stalkers do, duh.)
Normally, my body will compensate to imbalances and maintain an
equilibrium (and normally I actually eat and drink). But in the last
year since "waking up" (Think, Uma Thurman in "Kill Bill" except for
the Nija revenge part.... although if I could get away with it...) I
have had to get several massive doses of IV iron to shore up a
lingering iron-poor and depleted blood supply. At one point I actually
didn't have enough blood circulating in my body, went into hypovolemic
shock, and was supposed to get a transfusion. (I'll spare you the
hospital horror stories, but I didn't get it). Oh yeah.... they
theorize it's a form of Porphyria. This is reinforced by the fact if I
get dehydrated and am out in the sun too long, the anemia suddenly
appears, my blood turns to acid and starts damaging internal organs, my
skin shreds, and I basically keel over and have to crawl into a cool
dark place for the next month and be pumped full of glucose, iron and a
whole lot of antinausea drugs (all IV). (Note, If I'm not dehydrated,
and start out with enough iron, sun exposure doesn't bother me.) They'd
have a better idea if they were right if the lab hadn't mysteriously
lost my blood test results 5x in a row.
It can be icky, and alarming,
but I'm not dying.... and at least I know I'm
incredibly hard to kill.
With 7 million of various kinds of these thingys implanted EACH YEAR in
the U.S., I'm also not remotely unique in having one. Granted, I think
many/most long term ones are in use by cancer patients... they put them
in in ERs whenever a trauma patient comes in and needs immediate,
fairly assured access. I have mine specially placed (the first, and of
only maybe 2-3 total done like this) down on my ribs.... because, I
NEVER just take a doctors word for something just because they ALWAYS
do things a certain way and my surgeon was, like,
OH, that'd be interesting to try.... and look... I'm not in a coma anymore, so
I'd really like to have a love life again someday...
and they usually jam these things in up by your collarbone where
everyone can see it (okay, everyone trying to look down your bra... if
you wear one)... and some guys wig out over stuff like that... and...
well, I think I WOULD wig out... so...
.
.
.
Anyway, it's light out, and I still haven't found a viable option for
getting down to my surgeon. Gotta go think how to do this.
note 09.17.07
Ah well... I got to spend a week curled up in a ball suffering at home
because the local hospital didn't think "it" warranted emergency
transporting me to the correct hospital to get treatment, and couldn't
treat me themselves (if I was bleeding to death on the sidewalk across
the street from this place I'd elect to lay on the nice clean sidewalk
and die there, rather than in the hallway of that hell-hole...). Then
my landlady showed up at the door wondering why I hadn't paid the rent,
and if I was okay (she knew about the port problems I'd had a month
ago, that resolved, before the big failure occurred) and being one of
the nicest people in the world is driving me to the (correct) hospital
tomorrow... approx 90 miles from here.
Getting back is another issue entirely... but I'll deal... wish me luck...
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