(Not So) Awful Wednesday

I think it was the blouse I wore yesterday that caused all the trouble.

I wore a blouse that I haven't worn in a long time because it was a bit flashy.  Well, the print in front was.  

Anyway, within the first hour of my stay in the office, I made a boo-boo that earned me a memo from the management.  I called a client 10 minutes early.  I was looking at his previous schedule, that's why. Darn those renewal.  I wish that he enrolled for the same schedule but it didn't matter anymore.  The damage was done.  I earned some incentives out of the his enrollment but it earned me a memo too.  Tsk!

Since I'm on probation in this company, a little mistake is unacceptable.  Therefore, I got a mark in my record already.  Ugh!  I hate that.  And I'll probably make more mistakes in the future.  It's sad because receiving such memo (which was a little brutal, in my opinion) makes me less motivated to work more efficiently for the company.  I think there were three of us who received this memo.  And I think they were using a template.  

I went to the pantry a few minutes after receiving the memo to show the memo to a friend.  And my friend shrugged it off saying that she has received more than one of them.  We were talking about it after that.  

I haven't received a memo in my life ever.  Yes, this was the first.  And it's just sad that the memo was so negative.  Some people said that after one receives a memo, it is certain that the management will find more fault at that person in the future.  Ugh!  

Off to the next reason why yesterday was kind of awful.  I had my mole removed.  I know it will cause a lot of ridicule since it was located in my forehead.  I'm used to the ridicule because I've had this mole since high school.  

I don't know why but people notice that "beauty mark" only after some time.  But then, while I was pregnant, it suddenly grew faster than it had for the past 15 years.  And it is quite alarming because I knew someone's husband died because of malignant melanoma before.  And it took only three months after they found out about the cancer when the malignancy metastasized to the brain.  And the husband eventually died in less than six months.  

And that is why, I wanted my mole removed as soon as it was possible to have it biopsied.

The bad thing about this was that, the surgeon decided to remove it in the OR.  I was not thrilled to have it done inside an OR because I thought it was a procedure done inside a doctor's clinic.  And so, yesterday, it was scheduled.

The kind nurse wheeled me to the designated OR and when I saw that I had to lie down on the table, I asked him if I really have to because it was just a small mole (that was growing big) and I wasn't going to have a major operation.  He told me not to worry.  It is just necessary that I lie down.  

And so they covered me and even my face.  Only a small part of my forehead was exposed after they placed Betadine.  

I want to hurt the two surgery residents.  It was because they were laughing at the case.  They weren't really laughing at me. They were also in disbelief why a case like mine have to be done in a major OR.  I understand completely why they reacted that way.  What I don't understand is that they keep on laughing at my case while they were slicing through my forehead until the time they were done with the stitches. They were making insensitive comments all throughout the procedure. 

When they removed the covers and I was again sitting in the wheelchair (even against my will because I know I am able to walk back to the waiting room) after the 20-minute procedure, I wasn't speaking or talking to them even if they were talking to me.  When I couldn't contain it anymore, I told the resident doctor "Alam niyo nakaka-offend kayo.  Sana ginagawa niyo lang yan kung natutulog ang pasyente niyo" ("You know what, I was really offended.  It would have been fine if I wasn't conscious the whole time")  With that, everyone in the room was alarmed.  (My surgeon already left a lot sooner before everything transpired.)  Then they were asking what they did wrong or if my wound hurt that much.  But of course, I wasn't answering.  

The kind nurse (who wheeled me to and from the OR) was asking what happened because he wasn't there during the procedure.  He told me that he needed to make an incident report regarding this.  And I told him, he doesn't need to do that because I wasn't going to make any complaints.  (But now, I'm pondering on it.)  I asked him instead, to give me the full names of the two residents.  Right now, I have their names. 

I don't mind if they found the case beneath their surgical practice.  They were saying that I was having a facial and that they were in the wrong profession.  (They were implying that only a dermatologist should do this kind of procedure.)  They are just residents, my goodness!  And they already think highly of themselves.  Just imagine how they will be when they pass their boards to become certified surgeons.  

I don't mind that they felt that the case was beneath them.  What I do mind is that they keep laughing at the case when I felt pain with their suturing.  I'd like to suture them on the face too and laugh at them while I'm at it.  I could only lie quietly and still on that table as much as I could because they might make a mistake and blame it on me.  I don't want to give them that chance. 

Also, if they were that good, they won't make any blunder using the sutures and the surgical needles.  They keep complaining that the instrument don't have a good bite or hold.  Since I was awake, I noted that they were pulling the thread and accidentally letting it go.  They kept apologizing for their blunders while attending to the wound site.  If they were wise enough, they could have just pretended that nothing happened because I wasn't able to see anything.  But of course, it was obvious, they couldn't hold on to that needle!

I felt really bad during the procedure because I really didn't want to remove that mole.  Actually, that mole defines me.  People know me by that mole.  Funny but I'm not kidding. Sometimes, when people make fun of my mole, it was out of affection.  You could tell the difference it from just being humiliated. And who in the world would like to be set on the operating table for no good reason?  (Well, actually there are so many who would go to great lengths to be physically perfect.  But this. is. not. about. looking. good!)

Maybe, that was on the feeble minds of the surgery residents - that it was about looking good.  Before they make a comment, they need to be sure.  What was the use of all that years being educated when you can't even learn how to be certain on the simplest things?

Anyway, it was all the shirt's fault!

In addition to all of this, I had to go to work wearing a cap in order to hide the bandage on my forehead.