Lemon Water



Pre Op Jitters

I’m feeling distinctly worried and tense over my operation. Not so much the actual operation, though I am quite nervous about it, but partly because of the stress my parents and I have been going through with the freakin exams and the feeling that they are charging us more. Oh, and the fact that the secretary hasn’t given us the cost of the surgery which she should have given us three days ago. I see no reason- nor do my parents -to have a cardiograph taken for an ambulatory operation, though we would understand if it is a standard procedure (albeit a procedure that seems to be set in place to get more money). The problem is that they keep stringing us along and telling me to get more exams and to go see this doctor for the “riesgo qirurgico” and telling us “oh no, I’m sorry I don’t know how much it costs” and you know, not being exactly professional. This is something they should have told us the day it was decided I needed an operation- the cardiograph, the x-ray. Yes, she mentioned tests, but never gave the lists, or pre-operation instructions. They didn’t even tell my mom that apparently I shouldn’t eat for eight hours before the operation because the anaestesia could give me nausea and that’s problematic in an operation. Thank (Something) that my mom knew this already and checked, but I can’t help but keep worrying and worrying even as my parents talk and bicker in the car about being pulled along like idiots around the hospital, which I’ve been stuck in for three days now. And it doesn´t help that it was this clinic, albeit in a different location (the Molina branch), that failed to check my wound properly and left me with four glass shards in my foot.

Aggravating my nerves even more is that in between listening very very quietly and tensely to my parents discuss this in the car on the way back, my dad gets pissed at the drivers, as Limean driving is quite frankly horrible, aggressive, discourteous, and just creates far more problems and traffic, not to mention accidents. However, this time, instead of just ranting, one particular van that nearly crashes us by shoving itself in front of us, prompts my dad to hit the accelerator into a burst of speed, maneuvers us around said van, and then brakes furiously before it, as my mom said “AY FIYE!” and I just moaned “No no no” and tried not to think “if he makes a mistake we crash, if we make a mistake we crash.” As it is, we badly scared the driver, but I wish my dad wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t do this usually, or at least not anymore, but the possibility remains due to his short temper. And it’s just not going to help anybody.

To add to more tension, after school, when I got dropped of by the taxi near my mom’s office, I walked two blocks to it because the road is in construction, unfortunately in my school skirt. In the space of two blocks, I got harrassed by three guys muttering lowly at me as I tried to stride past stony faced, even as they muttered “estas rica, chiquita” or “hola niñita” and all I could think was that I wanted to scream at them to shut the fuck up, and feeling very very tense because I was carrying a heavy backpack and couldn’t run very quickly away should they want to do something. Worse, you’d think a cop would help you should you want protection, right? One of the men that started talking to me like that, you freaking lewd man, was being helped by a cop to freaking push a motorcycle at the sidewalk. My instinct was to turn around and flick him off, bare my teeth and then scream, but I didn’t. Joy. Was I asking for it for wearing a skirt? Fuck no. I wear the skirt to school right now because the pants I have right now are fucking useless, and I need to buy a new one.
I feel really bad for all the trouble my parents are going through for my operation, and I am mostly pissed at the clinic. It’s supposed to be one of the best. Meh, I apparently have to wear a long skirt or something tommorow to the clinic, because pants would rub against the bandage and might loosen it.

Oh yeah, they also moved the operation from 5 pm to 2 pm, and only because my mom checked we found out. So I’ll go to school until around 12, and then go to the clinic, perhaps change before I leave.

Fucking hell, look at what a piece of broken glass in a party did to me.

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Comments

  1. * Pooper Cooper says:

    ok so i just wrote a huge thing in reply to your text message…cuz i can’t text back….but as soon as i hit submit it was brought to my attention that i missed the name and email fields…so it got deleted. I’m pissed and I will try to write it again later but i doubt it will be as good and i really need to finish world lit now…so bear with me. just a heads up…you misinterpreted sooo many things of what I said and you actually did what you blamed me of doing.

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 4 months ago


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