Ouch. Just writing the word "snippets" hurts.
Okay, well things I've learned this week:
Morphine does not like me. I like it okay, but it has no respect for me.
Just because the hospital food was edible two years ago doesn't mean it's edible now. And it's not. And a bite of chicken left in your mouth for fifteen minutes doesn't get any better while you're sleeping.
A hospital that doesn't have FOX News channel should have more self-respect than to present you with a bill when you leave.
I should have made sure my new computer's mobile wireless access was up and running. Morphine doesn't help you figure it out.
Surgical tape gets better all the time. That's a good thing on the front end. When it's time to take it off, not so much.
It's a problem when one of the machines in your room buzzes like the sound your cell phone makes on vibrate. Every 90 seconds or so, all night long.
Surgical ward techs who aren't much older than my grandson and who persist in calling me "Sweetie" and then say "Let me know if that don't help" really creep me out.
There should be a vetting process for roommates.
Knowing I have someone else's bone inside me doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. It would be nice to know something about him, though....eye color, SAT scores, arrest record...you know.
My kids love it when I'm on drugs. It restocks their stash of "What Mom Said in the Hospital" stories. It also gets them out of assignments that I supposedly never told them about.
Physical therapists who say "Okay, our goal for today is 350 feet" are working with a very elastic ruler. Trust me on this one.
An iPod is a very nice thing to have in
I tend to tighten up when anyone who was actually IN the O.R. with me starts a sentence with, "Do you remember....?"
The "fun" part of my "business/fun trip" that ended the day before surgery is something I'd definitely recommend. Thank you, Lyric.
No one should attempt an experience like this without a wonderful family. Thanks to each one of you.
For a different take on the week, don't miss CJ's thoughts. And no, she NEVER exaggerates.
And my Knight-in-Shining-Armor, who has nothing left to prove, goes on proving that no one has ever cared for a wife more tenderly and more vigorously than he. Am I lucky, or what?? Thank you, John.
I still don't know what the long-term effects of this operation will be. But I'm very thankful for a surgeon, just returned from working on combat wounds in the desert, who's done his best to help a Granny like me. Thanks, Dr. K.
Have a great week, and savor every pain-free step :-)
Labels: Family, Friendship, Health
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