Friday had to be the worst birthday of my life. First of all, the General phoned to move my appointment ahead from 1:15 to before noon, which meant transport wasn’t ready.
At the General, I was sent to be x-rayed. I was waiting in the hall when the technician came by and asked if I was ready to have my femur x-rayed. I was a bit surprised by this and said “Are you sure it isn’t my tibia you mean?” I’m not a medical professional, but I was pretty sure it was my left tibia which needed x-raying. Before checking her computer, she asked for my name and date of birth. An older gentleman was listening to the exchange, as he then wished me happy birthday! The first to do so.
Once my left tibia was x-rayed, I waited for a long time in the waiting room before being shown to an examination room where I waited for a long time. Dr. H. eventually came in and briefly examined my left leg and noted that the external wounds had healed to his satisfaction so that the long awaited operation could now be initiated. Of course the exact date was not revealed because of X, Y and Z. My only idea is probably the week after next. I tried to ask the questions the various professionals at the Gringras-Lindsay had wanted me to ask but only got vague replies.
I then waited for a needlessly long time in order to fill out something that I didn’t really need to fill out. I did sign a document consenting to the operation.
Then it was a SNAFU-fest trying to arrange transport back to the Lindsay. I had lunch, then discovered the General’s boutique. I went into buy a thank you card for the people at the Fredericton hospital and a birthday card for Dominique. The sight of the assorted cards made me want to cry for some reason. I found a very good card for Dominique and a generic thank you card.
The driver back to the Lindsay spent most of the drive on the phone with someone in violation of the Montreal taxi-driver’s code of conduct. After we arrived, he got out of the mini-van and started chatting with a passing patient at the Lindsay whom he knew well. I was ready to scream. The driver then insisted on pushing me to the elevator and on pushing the elevator buttons. Wrongly as it turned out, as when the elevator doors opened again, I rolled out and went to my room only to find I was still on the same floor!
When I finally got back to my room, I buzzed for pain meds, then broke down in tears. The nurse came by with the goodies and began to debrief me on the trip. Danielle, the replacement physio also came by. It was a good conversation. I eventually went down to the gym where I first chatted with the occupational therapist, then tried to exercise out my frustrations on the Nu-step machine.
Supper proved to be a bland abomination which I simply could not bring myself to eat. So I ordered myself a pizza.
My brother Stephen phoned me to wish me happy birthday from Vancouver Airport on his way back to Victoria. Mr. Sensitivity “moasted” (a combination of moaned and boasted”) to me that he hadn’t been home this year, having spent New Year’s in Kitchener before going straight to New Orleans for a conference. I broke down in tears pointing out that while he had been home in December, I hadn’t been home since August!
Saturday was better. I ordered Indian food online to be picked up by a party from North Hatley, viz. Mummy, Pappy, Philip and Dominique. The Mole arrived before them. Eventually we sat down to the most delicious meal I have had since August. I inadvertently ordered a little bit too much, but it was good to the point that I was still tasting it in my burps at 11 PM despite supper, two snacks and brushing my teeth! Mummy made a particularly delicious Queen Elisabeth cake at my request.
Dominique’s birthday is only in a couple of weeks, but I politely insisted that she open her card in my presence. It went better than I hoped. The front of the card had a dachshund going “HappyHappyHappy” with the word “Birthday” inside. Having Maki the dachshund at home, my sister-in-law was very and emphatically overjoyed by it.
If the Mole has a flaw, it is that he is sometimes overly modest. He had quietly grumbled about how it took him an hour to get here from his home, which isn’t that surprising given that the trip involves first a bus, then two different metro lines followed by another bus. However, when my Mother offered to drop him off as his home wasn’t far off the route back to North Hatley, he was politely refusing. I decided to employ my power as the birthday boy to insist he take up the offer.
Afterwards, I went through the mail brought to me. It included a document from the SAAQ which allowed me to access my account with them and to finally be able to order a replacement driver’s licence. Only, I had to jump through some additional hoops to do so. I swear, the SAAQ is getting nearly as bad as the depictions of American Departments of Motor Vehicles.
That may have been why I had a vivid dream this morning. I was back at work and the place was quite busy. I trying to help a patron find out if we had any books on some software called “Turbo type”. The problem was that the Online Public Access Computers or (OPACs) had overly aggressive autofill settings so the words I was trying to type in kept on getting distorted. As well, the search software had changed and kept on changing while I worked. After shooing away some kittens, I went to the Reference desk to see if those computers would work better. They didn’t. While I struggled another patron with dyed black hair and a comb-over came seeking information about naval warfare strategy. I explained that he would have to wait as I was helping another patron and the other librarian was on the phone. He immediately left in an impatient huff. I later when downstairs and behind the scenes where I was confronted by the fact that the Library now had not one but two library cats. These were both large and fluffy. Just before I woke up, I commented that they were not so much cats as moving sweaters. Please note: the presence of cats is contrary to the Library’s policies and merely represents my subconscious anxieties.
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