Thursday, August 22, 2013

In which I've instructed my husband not to let the MEs office do an autopsy on me...

So yesterday I had a car accident. It was odd, as I was turning into a parking lot to go look at bicycles for myself the car behind me carried on as though I wasn't there, which resulted in me being half rear-ended. It was upsetting and I'm still waiting back to hear about the fate of my car (to which I am emotionally attached, and has more bells and whistles than any vehicle I've ever had or am likely to ever have). Meanwhile, I went to Urgent Care to get checked out because...well, car accident and I was (and am) quite sore and experiecing funny back twinges I didn't have before, etc. I received some prescriptions and instructions to come back if pain worsens. But...meanwhile, part of me thinks that my abdomen is slowly filling up with blood and I'm going to exsanguinate in my sleep. If that happens, I've told my husband that I don't want an ME office autopsy. They're terribly impersonal.

It isn't logical, but I've had a rough few days (including missing a day of work this soon into starting the job, which was... mortifying) and I'm going to allow myself some time to wallow in worse case scenerios.  I could be developing a hemothorax right now, but I rather hope not.

As far as work goes, can I say what a huge difference a full day's fixation makes in having to gross placentas? They're so much nicer to work with when they've been in formalin for longer than an hour and a half. 

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