Surgery & Census

So the event that had most impact on me this year was the DVT (blood clot in my left leg). They gave me some really sexy compression stockings that really made me feel like a woman and had me on meds.

When none of these worked and it became evident that the clot was travelling up my leg, they decided to try the "aggressive treatment", as they termed it. This involved an outpatient procedure of sticking a wire through my vein, breaking up the clot, and sucking it out. Then they would go through my groin (ouch!), install a filter in my vein that would prevent any clots from travelling to my heart or lungs.

I was really nervous about this procedure. Seven years previous, I had a procedure that had required me to be put out. When I came out of the procedure, I was trying to be funny with the nurses. Temple said that my version of "funny" was really vulgar. As a result, I have a deep phobia of - not surgery - but anesthesia.

The doctors assured me that I would be awake and able to function during the procedure.

"Will I be coherent?" I asked.

"Yes, but you won't care," they answered.

They rolled me into the room, administered the anesthesia, and it was kind of pleasant. I just kind of kicked back and made chit-chat with the surgeons. I even napped a while, snoring softly. When they wheeled me back into the recovery room, Martha was waiting for me. I made morew chit-chat with the nurse. I talked a little bit about Temple. Later, Martha told me, "I can't believe that you talked about Temple!"

I told her, "I never mentioned who Temple was, though."

Recovery was a slow process. My legs were still swollen and stiff. I had a enormous, purple bruise on my inner thigh where they had inserted the screen. But I started to get better.

Two weeks after my surgery, I got a phone call from Census Bureau, offering me a job. Since I had no other prospects (a hotel job in Tennesse had fallen through), I accepted. I had done three of the four major phases of the Census 2000, ao I kind of knew what to expect. Training proved that the job was basically the same as I remembered it.

Basically, I loved the job. Imagine cruising down dirt roads through Arizona's beautiful backcountry - Greer, Springerville, Eagar, Vernon, St. Johns and Concho. These are the areas I worked. It was totally enjoyable - except for a few things.

Being a Census Bureau employee during the Obama Administration was much different than ten years ago. People treated you like you were Obama himself knocking at your door. People did not want to cooperate, refused to answer questions, slammed doors in your face, told you how much they hated the government. One worker even received death threats.

And when these people refused to cooperate, the Bureau would send you out to them again.

At one point, a Census representative from D.C. came out to Arizona, and she was going to be riding with a worker. My supervisor put her with me.

"I want you to take her down the roughest roads possible," he said. "I want you to find the meanest people and possibly have a gun pulled on you. I want you to show her what it is we deal with out here."

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So they put the Census Rep with me. She was a smart, pretty twentysomething right out of college. I bounced her around down 20 miles of dirt road to a homestead I had found. I was sure the people did not want to be found. It turned out the people were friendly.

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The only problem with working Census not money. I got paid well. The mileage reimbursement was also good. But I beat the heck up outof my car. Those dirt roads were not kind on a sedan. My car went into the shop twice - once with a punctured transmission pan, and again with a damaged fuel pump. I think I'm still paying for car issues that originate with my stint with Census Bureau.

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I worked for the Bureau until July. I quit when it was time to go on the fair circuit again, which is what I will write about tomorrow...

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