Episode 30
– November 29 – I slept quite well last night with the exception of a minor
wakeup call from my bladder, I was out cold from 10 PM until 6 AM when I
started my morning exercise regime.
The vampires returned again. This time it was for
my blood count. Hey wait a minute...blood...count...now I think I may be onto
something here. When I questioned the lab assistant about why they always
showed up before the sun was all up he stuttered and mumbled something about
shift schedules and other nonsense.
I estimate
by now when you include my glucose testing, blood testing, blood thinners and
IV’s, I have been stabbed well over one hundred times so far. Speaking of the
glucose I’m still registering under 6 with another 5.7. That’s a good thing!
They pulled another nurse out of the casual pool for
me and today it was Adam, a self-proclaimed Polish gypsy prince. Actually he
was quite the entertainer. I put him to work early after he brought my morning
meds. We had a product evaluation discussion on the pros and cons of different
bed pans. We’ll leave the discussion here for now unless you would like me to
continue on the topic.
The best thing about Adam is he is proactive and
checking in with everyone at least three or four times an hour while some
nurses you’ll never see until you hit the call bell.
I am still fighting a never ending battle with the
nurses about my curtains. They just love opening them up both intentionally and
unintentionally and leaving them that way. And for good measure the odd little
cleaning lady decided that a good time to replace my curtains would be while Adam
and I were planning out the aforementioned procedure. At least I have now
defeated the nurses with my trusty reacher and my increased flexibility. I’m
more flexible than I was previously but I’m still not ready to audition for
Cirque du Soleil.
I have also noticed the upper body work I’ve been
doing is paying off. Everything tends to be a bit firmer, not totally ripped
but definitely firmer.
As per most days, lunch was reasonably good; penne
pasta with a very meaty marinara sauce and a hardy corn chowder.
Jenny, the Cap U student, came by after lunch with
the senior physio and put my knees through the longest workout yet where I
could actually feel my knees getting tired.
The noise in this room is driving me nuts. The
woman across from me, Colette has a constant parade of family members coming
and going. Anne, the 100 year old woman, who herself is quite the trooper and
rarely complains has this one visitor that comes in at least twice a day and to
compensate for her being nearly deaf uses his booming voice to prattle on for a
couple of hours at a time. Marguerite, the 94 year old beside has this whiny
voice at the best that drives you nuts whenever she speaks and it gets even
worse when she is in pain or complaining. My only escape is to crank up my
tunes to try and drown out as much as possible so I can concentrate on my
reading and writing. Yes, this may seem selfish and lacking in compassion but I
have my own mental well being at stake here.
For the most part during the past thirty days, I
have managed to keep my spirits up and taken a positive approach to my recovery
but sometimes it gets hard. I keep trudging along looking ahead for whatever
tomorrow brings.
Adam arranged to get me up in my chair at around
3:30 with me having to supervise the team. I like being the boss. I couldn’t
last that long because someone had left a folded flannel sheet on top of my
Roho cushion that defeated its purpose and my butt got sore way too quickly.
The Roho cushion is an inflatable device consisting of individual cells so when
you shift in the chair it reduces the pressure on your backside. When you at
one without the cover it is extremely strange looking. In fact, when I was in
the medical supply business, they always creeped me out.
I was back in the bed by five and got back to my
reading. Because there were visitors next to me I needed some block out music.
A couple of years ago for St. Patrick’s Day, the Crown Prince added some Irish
Rebel music to my playlist. Irish Rebel music is not conducive to reading
because you always want to sing along. On a secondary note about this genre,
anyone familiar with Irish Rebel ballads will know they always end badly; the hero always dies.
When the dinner fairy came by I had a choice
between sweet & sour pork and baked chicken. I decided to gamble on the
pork but somewhere down the line someone changed my order and I ended up with
extremely foul fowl.
I have just started watching the HBO series “The
Franchise” a documentary series on the 2011 San Francisco Giants following up
on their 2010 championship. It only took two minutes into the first episode to
reconfirm the consensus opinion about Brian Wilson; that boy ain’t right in the head.
With the help of Layla and the magic blue pill
along with Rachel Maddow and the Green River Killer I found my way to slumberland.
To be continued...