Monday, April 16, 2012

No Rest for the Wicked

Part II

From far away I hear someone saying my name.  I'm groggy and can't get my eyes fully open.  Peering out from heavy hooded eyes, there's a nurse standing beside me.  She tells me surgery is over and I'm now in the recovery room.  All I know is my face is terribly itchy. Scratch..scratch...scratch...  I fall back to sleep only to be shocked awake by the nurses yelling at me to not  roll over.  I like to sleep on my side and seemingly I was trying to get into that position in the hospital bed.

She asks if I want to see my mom.  Of course I want to see my mom!  My mom comes in with Ramon and I can barely acknowledge their presence.  I'm so cracked out I have no recollection what we talked about other than Ramon took my cell phone home with him.  Still so itchy, it's now moved on to my chest.  Scratch..scratch..scratch.  The nurse tells me to stop before she puts gloves on my hands.  Back to sleep I go.

Many hours later I'm woken up by being rolled down the hallway.  After 12 uneventful hours in the recovery room I'm finally being brought upstairs to a room.  There is no rest in a hospital.  I can see why people hate it!  What seemed like every 5 minutes someone was turning on the lights and poking and prodding at me.  Finally, I fall into a good sleep only to hear them bringing in another patient.  All night long she moans and groans and at one point is screaming because the medical team is trying to give her a suppository.  Again, I doze off to be jarred awake time and again by her moaning.

Next morning I'm up and at them bright and early.  I'm exhausted after a night of cat naps.  My back is killing me from the hospital bed, my hand is so swollen from the IV I can't even flex my fingers. I ring the bell for the nurse and no one answers me.  I ring it again and again and there's not even an acknowledgement from the Nurses' Station.  I'm annoyed.

I feel lost, no one is at the hospital yet; I have no cell phone, no tv and no room phone.  I can't even reach the room phone to use the automated system to turn it and the tv on.  Where are all the nurses that poked at me all night??  A housekeeper comes into the room and very kindly moves the cart close to me.  Hallelujah!  TV and phone is turned on. 

My sister calls and we're discussing the night before and I'm telling her about the roommate carrying on.  Well, apparently roomie was awake and full of piss and vinegar and starts screaming. I got like a loonie and told my sister I'd have to call her back.

Roomie is screaming, "I had surgery last night!" over and over. I'm screaming back, "So did I and I'm not crying like a bitch keeping people awake all night!"  Back and forth we go for a few minutes then the male day nurse walks in and that shuts her up.  About 10 minutes later I hear a low voice say, "I'm not looking to fight with you." and I said nor was I and I was not actually complaining about her disrupting me.  I really wasn't.  Long story short, her name was Erin and she was actually a pretty nice girl.  We lapped the hallways together a few times.

During all this my sister calls my dad to tell him I'm fighting with the roommate.  My dad's answer?  "Donna must be feeling ok, then." And he was right. I barely felt like anything was done to me.  Good meds??

I pretty much hung out in bed all day with visitors and staff in and out.  Day One comes to a close and everything seems to be progressing smoothly.

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