Home Sweet Home......or is it? Released April 17, 2009.

Apr 27, 2009

I looked at that tray of protein yuck and prepared to get the heck out of that hospital, away from the poor sick woman in my room, and to a bathroom where I could get stuff done as needed.  My Dr. came in and gave me the release, looking at my healing wounds and checking out what I called the "BLOOD BOMB".  The blood bomb is a grenade looking, see through device that is hanging out of your body, connected to the drain going who knows where into your body.  Everyday it would fill with diluted blood, water , and other interesting things.  It had to be pinned to your walking gown so that it didn't hang on the floor.  It was like a pendulum of disgust.

Well, he cuts a little stitch off of the tube and PULLLLLLLLLLL, he without warning pulls this longer than long tube out of my body.  It freaked me out more than pain......it was plain gross.  I guess I would rather he do it then than make me go home with it on.  He says I can take a shower the next day, but not to soak.  We all know I needed a long soak, I felt disgusting and smelled even worse.  My hair was in a ball and my gown was half falling off for those last walks in the hallway.

I called my mom to come get me and went to change into my real clothes with in itself felt so much better.  I packed up all of my things and waited.  She came and I buzzed my little nurse's aide.  She brings in a regular wheelchair and asked if I thought I would fit.  If I would fit in that thing, why would I be having this surgery?  She returned from another floor with a wide chair and took me down to the lobby.  I was glad as hell to be leaving.  Then the chair, like I knew it wouldn't, didn't fit through the exit.  The van was there, so close yet so far away.  I could see my daughter all excited to see me.  I told them to let me walk, and the poor little teen valet boy said he could try to get me through.  Bless his heart.  I slowly got up and hobbled to the van.  Wee HEE!

As we drove, it seemed we hit every bump, which hurt.  I kept a little pillow pressed against my stomach.  The air hitting my face made me know why a dog enjoys it so much after being shut in for so long.  We stopped for water and my mom dared to get a Frappachino.  She downs the thing right in front of me and was like "wow these things are so good".  Was she sent to torment me, I can see how much fun this life change is going to be with her.

We went and dropped off  the liquid vicodin prescription, and went home, where I used a cane to slowly hobble in the house.  I was happy to have that cane.  I parked my self on the sofa with a squeal and settled in for a terrible few days.

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