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Hi. I'm trying to think of another description to put here. Any ideas? I'll try again at 420.

Tuesday, August 06, 2013

Kedo from my hospital bed!

With any luck at all, today will be the day that I finally get to leave the hospital! Yesterday I recieved ANOTHER diagnosis that made me laugh...only because it was about the fifth one that I've received since being admitted with a stroke. The stroke alone was funny because I've actually lost count of how many I've had. With physical therapy and my own IMMENSE determination, the left sided weakness will be easily overcome. Other issues I've encountered...not so much.

A brief overview of my issues during my current stay are varied, numerous and not at all related. (This is where you might want to stop and finish your meal before continuing!)I came in on a Monday (2 weeks ago!) and the stroke was what I came to address. Within a few days, I began relieving myself of large quantities of bright red blood when I was expecting to expel other, smellier substances. Of course, that bought me a visit from the Assman who invited me to the OR for a visit with his trusty endoscope. Unpleasant to be sure, but nothing dreadfully sympathy evoking. He found nothing but a rather healthy ass. The next day, I began losing large quantities of blood from a portal within the same vicinity. It seems as though the hippopotamus to whom I gave birth over 36 years ago is still causing me and my birth canal trauma. He was so large that he caused a detour between two distinct exits so the blood (and other traveling substances) had an extra option on it's way out of my body. Anything that found my anal sphincter too much of a challenge could simply change routes and leave by the path of least resistance. That gave the doctors a couple of options when seeking the source of the bleeding. (They eventually figured that one out but until I speak to my family, I must keep that answer to myself for the time being.) That issue kept the docs busy for a few days. Then, I found myself thinking of ways to end the entire wretched ordeal but I like my grandchildren and I'm nowhere near ready to leave them yet so I requested a visit from a pyschiatrist who was kind enough to increase my Xanax which has helped considerably. Soon after that, the physicians concurred with me that the irregular heartbeat they were monitoring consistently on the telemetry unit was the result of them withholding my heart medication so they finally began giving it to me and soon I was able to leave the telemetry unit with dirty sticky areas all over the trunk of my body left from the countless stickers they had been attaching the cardiac leads to my body with. I was still disallowed to shower so I requested adhesive remover and removed the dirty glue that had been clinging so desperatly to my chest and abdomen. When I arrived on the new unit, some nitwit doctor who didn't believe that I really didn't want to cause myself any harm decided that I needed a "sitter" in my room. The grandmotherly ladies were so attentive that everytime I rolled over, they wanted to know if I was OK. I would have been if only I could have simply gone back to sleep. Instead, I had to explain that I was simply rolling over and could go back to dreamland if only I didn't have to tell them why I was rolling over in bed. By Sunday night, I was looking forward to leaving but the hippo damage reared it's head again and left me with more blood during my visits to the loo. I thought little of that until the day nurse informed me that the sample they had sent to the lab on Sunday night came back positive for an infection. Did YOU know that shit could be infected? Well, it can be. After the nurse informed me of my most recent diagnosis, I began laughing at the never ending list of health issues. Then, I did something very stupid...I asked,"What else could go wrong?" Right at that moment,the nurse noticed the massive quantity of blood that was pooling underneath my hip area. Another test convinced them that I needed to visit another type of doctor as an out-patient. I had to put that issue out of my mind and concentrate on my new wheelchair. The physical therapist "taught" me how to operate the wheelchair and then, shortly after she left, a social-worker informed me that the shelter that I was SO hoping to enter did NOT allow wheelchairs. Desperate to leave this place, I told her to watch as I used every bit of strength that I had to walk without my shiny new wheelchair. I think I convinced them that I could walk so with any luck at all, I should be able to get into my shelter of choice sometime today.

For most people, today may be a boring day. But something tells me that I may have an opposite experience so come back after I've had a chance to have another one of my escapades!


Blogger Karen Itscometothis said...

Oh my gosh! That's craziness. I really hope you're on the road to recovery (as well as to your daughter's house). I'm happy to find your blog. I just started a divorce, and a blog of my own. Take care of yourself - you deserve it! ~ME

August 13, 2013  

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