I has surgery on Monday and spent two days of pain and suffering in what I can only consider hell is like.
First, my IVs were in wrong on both arms and if you looked at my arms you would think I had been in a severe fight with "Ninja Pirates" (which was thought up by daughter's friend to explain any injury I may get) and you should see how the "Ninja Pirates" turned out. It does look like I have burned veins right now. My family is pissed all to hell and back and the big guy wanted to go the hospital and tell them why one does not hurt his mother. I convinced him to stay by telling him I would let him take pictures and document it.
My little guy reminded me yesterday that when I was in the recovery room I could have sworn I was "Alice in Wonderland" and laughed at the nurses thinking they weren't real and trying to find that damn "White Rabbit".
I am sent to my hospital room with no pain medications even though I was suppose to be hook up to a Morphine drip. My nurses were pissed off at the person who sent me up without one. On Tuesday, I was given pain medication but it was not nearly enough. I scared my family because I was crying with so much pain going on and they know if I am crying there is a damn good reason for it, since the children hardly ever see me cry I finally got the right medication on Wednesday.
On Wednesday, a physicians assistant walks in and rips off my back brace with out so much as " by your elbow" Once again, pain racks my body and I try so hard to keep from crying it was not even funny. She didn't understand why I was fighting the urge to rip out the ole flamethrower.
I was on the surgical floor, but two doors down from an old woman who screamed, and I do mean screamed every two seconds even though she wasn't there for pain or surgery. I have no idea why she was on my floor. I would be almost asleep when she was start in again. Maybe she was screaming at the hospital ghosties.
I have to wear a back brace and use a walker if I want to walk around. My little guy thinks I look like a storm trooper from Star Wars with it on. I joked with the big guy he could just pick me up like a 6 pack and carry me in that way. He thought that was funny. I joked with Mr. Mis that I'm going to get a huge horn on my walker to beep at people when I am out.
The night before I went into the hospital I wrote four letters to my four family members to read if I died. They were only meant to be opened in the event of my death so they remain sealed.
Mr. Mis told me Ethan (our resident ghostie) was pacing back and forth beside my side of the bed and the hallway like Ethan was looking for me. It is nice to be missed by not only the living but the dead.
I came home to a completely cleaned house and things moved out of the way so I can walk around with my walker. My family hardly left my side yesterday and helped me out a lot.
Thank you guys for the encouragement and thank God for Morphine. I kid, I thank God for you guys and your thoughts and prayers. You didn't really think you could all get rid of me that easily did you?
First, my IVs were in wrong on both arms and if you looked at my arms you would think I had been in a severe fight with "Ninja Pirates" (which was thought up by daughter's friend to explain any injury I may get) and you should see how the "Ninja Pirates" turned out. It does look like I have burned veins right now. My family is pissed all to hell and back and the big guy wanted to go the hospital and tell them why one does not hurt his mother. I convinced him to stay by telling him I would let him take pictures and document it.
My little guy reminded me yesterday that when I was in the recovery room I could have sworn I was "Alice in Wonderland" and laughed at the nurses thinking they weren't real and trying to find that damn "White Rabbit".
I am sent to my hospital room with no pain medications even though I was suppose to be hook up to a Morphine drip. My nurses were pissed off at the person who sent me up without one. On Tuesday, I was given pain medication but it was not nearly enough. I scared my family because I was crying with so much pain going on and they know if I am crying there is a damn good reason for it, since the children hardly ever see me cry I finally got the right medication on Wednesday.
On Wednesday, a physicians assistant walks in and rips off my back brace with out so much as " by your elbow" Once again, pain racks my body and I try so hard to keep from crying it was not even funny. She didn't understand why I was fighting the urge to rip out the ole flamethrower.
I was on the surgical floor, but two doors down from an old woman who screamed, and I do mean screamed every two seconds even though she wasn't there for pain or surgery. I have no idea why she was on my floor. I would be almost asleep when she was start in again. Maybe she was screaming at the hospital ghosties.
I have to wear a back brace and use a walker if I want to walk around. My little guy thinks I look like a storm trooper from Star Wars with it on. I joked with the big guy he could just pick me up like a 6 pack and carry me in that way. He thought that was funny. I joked with Mr. Mis that I'm going to get a huge horn on my walker to beep at people when I am out.
The night before I went into the hospital I wrote four letters to my four family members to read if I died. They were only meant to be opened in the event of my death so they remain sealed.
Mr. Mis told me Ethan (our resident ghostie) was pacing back and forth beside my side of the bed and the hallway like Ethan was looking for me. It is nice to be missed by not only the living but the dead.
I came home to a completely cleaned house and things moved out of the way so I can walk around with my walker. My family hardly left my side yesterday and helped me out a lot.
Thank you guys for the encouragement and thank God for Morphine. I kid, I thank God for you guys and your thoughts and prayers. You didn't really think you could all get rid of me that easily did you?
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