it was a big day planned. we were to go and meet w/ the plastic surgeon that would possibly be making the changes to my son's face from the scars left by his car wreck. i don't know why, but this day i was concerned about making a good impression. i didn't want him to think we were just poor white trash, but responsible people who would be good patients. he was one of the top 5 cranial/facial surgeons in the united states, commonly used to repair cleft palates on newborns. it's weird that i would even have this line of thought as i don't ever consider anything like that. after all, we are respectable people so that shouldn't be a problem. it's especially unusual since my normal opinion, though, is "i don't care what you think." i guess i was just sensitive since this had to do w/ the scars on scott's face and the possibility of repairs needed. scott wasn't really that concerned over the scars, but i figured we might as well see what can be done before we make a final decision.
so today was our initial visit -- to see if the doctor could do anything w/ the scarring, and if so, what he could do and when he could do it. of course, there was no litigation on the car wreck, as there was no one else involved. that meant that we were free to move on w/ treatment at our convenience. i went back w/ scott because i wanted to hear what the doctor had to say. we waited quite some time on the doctor to come in the room, but he was well worth meeting when he came in. the doctor was older, probably late 50s or early 60s, and very likeable. he was soft spoken and very calm. he made small talk for a little bit and got acquainted w/ scott, who was obviously very comfortable w/ the doctor.
the doctor asked if scott had scottish heritage, as he has the dark hair and dark eyebrows with the fair skin. and not just the fair skin, but the red/pink cheeks, too. scott was amazed that the doctor seemed to know so much about his background based on his skin coloring. the doctor talked about some of the options that scott had available to him. he wasn't talking about doing anything right now, but just the process of what he would expect to do in the future. he looked closely at scott's face and pressed here and there w/ his fingers or pinched the skin as he explained the process. he would give scott some shots here and there, and after several months of that treatment he would have some microdermabrasion done (basically, sanding his face w/ fine grain sandpaper).
suddenly, it was very hot in the room and i felt rather suffocated. i fanned myself w/ my calendar, hoping the hot feeling would go away. the doctor kept droning on and on about something and the heat just kept coming on. i tried to reposition in my chair slightly so i could fan myself more easily and rest my head against the wall. pretty soon, i heard buzzing, like a hive of bees just let loose in the room. buzzing and hot. can't breathe, can't think. doctor talked on and on about getting shots in the face and making the redness go away. hot and buzzing.
the next thing i know, i heard a terrible roaring sound in my head and i looked up into the face of someone that i didn't recognize surrounded by ceiling tiles. i'm totally confused as to where and when i am. nothing is easily recognizeable. whoever thought i would wake up to that? i mentally struggled to come up w/ some kind of understanding as to why i'm in this position, and so far i wasn't having much luck. the floor was cold, and that felt good to me. i still struggled w/ the idea that there was a man standing over me and i didn't know who he was. the only other visible thing to help me figure out my location was the ceiling tiles. i was reminded of all the jokes that people make about being flat on their back and looking at the ceiling. i had the terrible urge to laugh in the man's face -- mainly b/c i didn't know what else to do!
i heard my son's voice saying "she takes blood pressure medicine." i had no idea what he was talking about or why, but he seemed to be upset over something. the doctor kept asking me if i knew where i was, like i don't know i'm laying on the floor! duh! i still don't know why, but there i was anyway. as i started to put the pieces together, the doctor ordered for me to be taken downstairs to the emergency room and checked out. i didn't think i had any problems, but i didn't have any reason for being on the floor, either. the nurse had gone to get the shots that the doctor wanted to do on scott and came back to see me on the floor. the doctor wanted to wait and do the shots next time, but i thought that was a terrible waste of time. we were here and the decision was "go," so why wait until next time to start? i told the doctor to go ahead w/ what he was going to do; i was fine just staying there on the floor.
while scott had his first treatment on his face, i recovered on the floor. i went through the emergency room after that, complete w/ blood work and an EKG. after 3 hours, we found that there was nothing wrong w/ me other than the fact that i found scott's trip to the doctor traumatic. that brought a real laugh to me, as there was absolutely nothing going on at the doctor's office. it's hard to believe that it was traumatic, but the doctor said that when we have things pent up that are upsetting to us it only takes something small to bring the emotions to the surface. then the brain says. "oops. i can't handle that right now." and shuts down.
after that experience and 3 hours in the ER, we decided to skip our other plans for the day -- going to the harley plant and shopping. we would have plenty of opportunities to do those things later on other trips. did we make an impresion on the doctor? definitely -- they all give me a hard time about it every time we're there.