I don't generally vent. It's probably the up bringing,that "keep calm, carry on" "Lie back and think of England mentality", despite the fact that I'm in no way English and most of my heritage has at one point of time been angry with or at war with England.
But anyway
This was supposed to be a good week, calm relaxing, final prep before my take down surgery on the 7th. I'm having a small pre-surgery party tonight.
Sunday Night: All is going well, I'm about to head down stairs to go to bed, my bag is full, and as I get up from the couch. My bag detaches from the flange, most of it catches in my shirt, except for the large puddle that lands on my couch. I rush downstairs to the washroom, strip off my clothing throw it in the bathtub, clean myself up, and run up stairs to clean up the mess on my couch.
Tuesday- Wake up with my throat killing me, I freak out and fins a walk in clinic. Luckily it's not strep, most likely a virus the doctor assures me it'll be gone by surgery.
Thursday- I have dinner, a friend stops by on her way to he evening class, it's lovely, we head out for a cigarette, I start to feel sore so I sit down. Things start getting worse, lie on the couch, watch TV, do internet stuff and it is progressively getting worse. I realise there has been no output for a couple of hoursSo at 8pm I walk over the hospital to deal with this obstruction (I live 3 blocks away). ER is packed. Eventually I see doctor, I explain things. And for once she does exactly what I say to do. She gives me hydomorphone, orders x-rays, calls the surgical consult. Eventually the consult comes down around 1 or 2 am, I tell him pain killers are wearing off, if he wants to do anything more than an assessment, I'll need more drugs. He said he's just assessing. He lied. after a couple seconds he starts pushing everything back in, far rougher than they normally do it. I'm squirming in pain barely able to vocalise. He pushes it back, the gets a nurse to give me an amount of morphine that in reality is a waste of everyone's time. Rest of the visit is much better, I start emptying out, they give better painkillers, I flirt with the morning surgical consult, midway through conversation she introduces herself by her first name, she seems disappointed that my surgery is at a different hospital, She sends me home with painkillers around 11am.
Friday - In pain, still clearing out from the obstruction, useless to finish getting my apartment in order.
Today- I'm cleaning, getting ready for tonight, moving slowly because I'm still very sore. And then I managed to some how tweak my back. The place is half cleaned, but mostly in shambles. I've taken a painkiller, I'm on the couch hoping that it kicks in so that I can finish everything.
This has been a terrible week that is almost over. And part of me is considering a Craigslist missed connection with the surgical consult.
But anyway
This was supposed to be a good week, calm relaxing, final prep before my take down surgery on the 7th. I'm having a small pre-surgery party tonight.
Sunday Night: All is going well, I'm about to head down stairs to go to bed, my bag is full, and as I get up from the couch. My bag detaches from the flange, most of it catches in my shirt, except for the large puddle that lands on my couch. I rush downstairs to the washroom, strip off my clothing throw it in the bathtub, clean myself up, and run up stairs to clean up the mess on my couch.
Tuesday- Wake up with my throat killing me, I freak out and fins a walk in clinic. Luckily it's not strep, most likely a virus the doctor assures me it'll be gone by surgery.
Thursday- I have dinner, a friend stops by on her way to he evening class, it's lovely, we head out for a cigarette, I start to feel sore so I sit down. Things start getting worse, lie on the couch, watch TV, do internet stuff and it is progressively getting worse. I realise there has been no output for a couple of hoursSo at 8pm I walk over the hospital to deal with this obstruction (I live 3 blocks away). ER is packed. Eventually I see doctor, I explain things. And for once she does exactly what I say to do. She gives me hydomorphone, orders x-rays, calls the surgical consult. Eventually the consult comes down around 1 or 2 am, I tell him pain killers are wearing off, if he wants to do anything more than an assessment, I'll need more drugs. He said he's just assessing. He lied. after a couple seconds he starts pushing everything back in, far rougher than they normally do it. I'm squirming in pain barely able to vocalise. He pushes it back, the gets a nurse to give me an amount of morphine that in reality is a waste of everyone's time. Rest of the visit is much better, I start emptying out, they give better painkillers, I flirt with the morning surgical consult, midway through conversation she introduces herself by her first name, she seems disappointed that my surgery is at a different hospital, She sends me home with painkillers around 11am.
Friday - In pain, still clearing out from the obstruction, useless to finish getting my apartment in order.
Today- I'm cleaning, getting ready for tonight, moving slowly because I'm still very sore. And then I managed to some how tweak my back. The place is half cleaned, but mostly in shambles. I've taken a painkiller, I'm on the couch hoping that it kicks in so that I can finish everything.
This has been a terrible week that is almost over. And part of me is considering a Craigslist missed connection with the surgical consult.
I know that I always had to hassle the nurses to give me the painkillers I needed when I was there, too. Which hospital was it, out of curiousity?