Okay, so I’ve been to the hospital (again). First, I had to go for an X-ray, then on to an appointment with a surgeon at 2.15pm. When I called the surgeon’s office yesterday, I asked the admin how much time I should budget for the X-ray (they dn’t take appointments for X-rays),she said about 15 – 20 minutes. I thought this sounded wildly optimistic on her behalf, considering I’ve NEVER been to an appointment in a hospital that EVER took longer than a few hours, but whatever. She should know better than I would, right? Pffft.
So, I showed up at the X-ray area of the hospital at about 1.40pm. I figured 35 minutes would be a good buffer – thinking that maybe if I showed up early enough for everything and it all ran according to plan (famous last words), I could get back to work this afternoon and cut down the amount time I’d be away from work (and the amount of money I’d be losing). Ya… I would be WRONG.
I checked in with the admin for the X-ray, and went to wait in the oh-so-lovely waiting room (why do all waiting rooms look the same?). Although, this one had a better-than-average magazine selection. Of course, I had a book and crossword puzzles to do (I should have been a boy scout – I’m always prepared). So, I sat and did my crosswords and waited. And waited. And waited. Apparently, the radiologists all take their lunches at the same time, which just so happened to be the time that I was waiting for my X-ray. Typical.
So, after waiting about 45 minutes, I was called in to change into the oh-so-flattering hospital gown (I’m so lucky to be a GIRL – I had to go and strip down so that my metal underwire wouldn’t mess with the X-ray), along with the rest of the waiting room, which had filled up by this point. Colour me PISSED when ALL of the people that came into the waiting room AFTER me were called in for their X-rays BEFORE I was. Oooh ya, I was mad. So now, I’m late for my appointment AND waiting for all these people who came after me. Excellent. Cue the steam coming out of my ears!
Finally, I was brought in for the X-rays, and much to my delight (read a LOT of sarcasm into that sentence), I found that the X-ray tech was possibly the HOTTEST little doctor-in-training (or whatever) that’s EVER existed. Lucky me. What’s especially nice is when I lay down on the table, he had to FEEL THROUGH MY FAT to make sure that my spine and hips were lined up exactly right with the X-ray thingie. Wow, talk about making a woman feel sexy. Ugh.
Anyway, the X-rays over (the tech told me he wasn’t allowed to say anything about if they’d seen the damn pin or anything), I proceeded to the doctor’s office on the 10th floor, now about 20 minutes late. Excellent. I only had to sit in the waiting room for about 10 minutes (which was nice), but then I was led to an examination room, where I sat playing games on my phone for about another half hour.
Eventually, a white coated woman came in, shook my hand and told me that they were having trouble finding the pin in the X-rays, so they were going to go back to the radiologist and ask him for help. Okay, no worries. After at least another 20 minutes, three white coats wandered into my room and closed the door. Oh no! A closed door! That ALWAYS means bad news! Ack!
It turns out that two of the three doctors (well, one surgeon, two doctors-in-training) were actually on-call the night I was in the ER, so they were all familiar with my “case” (one of them had the pleasure of watching me blubber. Awkward!). First, they told me that they couldn’t find the pin in the X-ray, so they assumed that I’d “passed” it (I shat it out GOOD!). Then the surgeon told me that he was going to be honest with me (Ack…) and said that when I’d come into the ER, they’d never encountered someone who’d swallowed a pin before and had no idea what to do with me, so they’d had to GOOGLE IT! Whoa! That is AWESOME. I’m a medical mystery (well, not really, since I Googled it when I got home, and freaked myself out enough that I didn’t read all 10 million pages that came up, but STILL… 
).
The doctors were all really friendly (quite a bit more so than the ones I encountered in the ER), and asking me questions like, “HOW did this happen, again?”, ”Did it hurt?”, “Did you feel it go down your throat?”… but, thankfully, not ONE of them asked me if I’d done it on purpose. Bless them! The surgeon actually had a mini-class in the examination room, explaining that the pin turned itself around in my stomach to go head first (well, non-pointy end first) through my intestines… it all got very technical, but it was pretty cool to listen to – especially since I actually understood it! 
Ya, I’m a GENIUS.
So, after all was said and done, I was free of the pin and the doctors thanked me (but wagged his finger at me and told me -half joking- not to put pins in my mouth anymore. I told him that’s all I’d been hearing for the better part of a week)for providing them with a “learning” experience . Yup, that’s me – generous to a FAULT.
