WARNING: This post contains a high level of sarcasm, thinly veiled (or not at all) discontent, and swear words. Even my patience wears thin. While I realize that I am very fortunate, and remain a grateful patient… Well, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t give you guys the low down of the most recent hospital shenanigans. Good god it sucked. I high-tailed it out of there as soon as I could. Read at your own risk. Or don’t. Whatever. It’s cool.

Musings from the Neuro Floor…

  • Let’s play “How many times do we have to stick Sara with the 18 gauge needle before we can start an IV?” Go! *face palm*
  • That’s right, genius. I’m still awake. Better ratchet up that anesthesia cocktail, it takes a lot to put this old girl down. (Sucka.)
  • I heart TED stockings. I heart them so very much.
  • Immediately after recovery, I am wheeled to my room. Our room. Me and my roommate. My “roomie”. I have a roommate. I was not aware that I would have to share a room, or for-the-love-of-jebus, a toilet, in a hospital, can this even be legal anymore?¹ *sobs*  She likes to watch crap daytime TV while talking on the phone. She also has a husband. He likes to smile and wave at me. All I have is the mother of all headaches. I request to be moved to the nearest supply closet.
  • I, for one, really enjoy the 4:00 am blood draws. I like to pretend it’s my pre-dawn acupuncture. Really, don’t just draw the blood and leave. Flip on the lights! Stay! Tell me about some random shit your husband did at the bar and how you are raising your grandkid. It’s all really interesting and awesome. And also, I like your homemade tattoos between your thumb and forefinger. Looking good. Looking real, real good. *finger guns*
  • Ladies, nurses, CNA’s, have you ever had a spinal headache?  These are hospital beds, not bumper cars, please make a note of it.
  • Dear Roommate-That-I-Hate-For-No-Reason-Other-Than-You-Happen-To-Be-There, I am happy that you are ambulatory. Yes, I see you have a walker there. If you bang it into my bed one more time, I will have someone hide it…very very far away from this room.
  • O HAI morphine! (We bring you Loooooooooove.)
  • Did I mention that I had a roommate?
  • It’s really no problem, I carry large bags of my own urine with me on a regular basis.
  • Let’s try repetition-for-learning. Repeat after me: “I will not forget Mrs. Santiago’s morning meds. I will not forget Mrs. Santiago’s morning meds. I will not…”
  • Go ahead, trip on that foley catheter one more time, just one…more…fucking…time.
  • No, no, it’s fiiiiiiine, just the other day I was saying that I should really look into one of those bladder infections. I mean, who really secures foley catheters properly these days anyway? Pfft!
  • There is a difference between refusing to eat and refusing to eat THAT shit.
  • NOBODY EVER SAID A GOTDAMN THING ABOUT A ROOMMATE. (Fucking shoot me.)
  • Thank you, transport person, for comparing the pain from your liposuction two weeks ago to my recent craniotomy-cerebral tonsillectomy-laminectomy-duraplasty and subsequent laminectomy (that’s right, another one) and spinal cord detethering procedures. Yes, yes, your boobs and belly look great.  Oh and hey, that was awesome, in the elevator, when you started digging through my hair with your press-ons, asking what all the red stuff was and “what the hell did they do?” to me. You are one terrific asshole, and I will miss you most of all.

Later Gators.

.

.

.

Footnotes:

¹Predictably, someone is going to get all riled up because I’m bitching about sharing a toilet when others “don’t have access to healthcare” at the level that I do. Listen up, Jack, because I’m going to share something with you. I have paid a shit-ton of money this year in medical expenses. We have had to prioritize our household expenses and give up certain things so that we could afford this. Based on what I have already shelled out, not only should I get my own fucking toilet, but it should be made of gold, feel like silk, and wipe my ass for me when I’m done.

Advertisements