Eventually I’m transferred from the ER to the regular hospital.
When I’m transferred to the sixth floor of the patient tower I’m delighted to see that I’m in a private room. With a big window. I ask for the shades to be opened so I can get some real light.
And, I have a real bathroom. With a shower! Luxury at its finest. I am, however, tethered to the IV machine. Luxury, but without freedom, I guess.
It’s a private room. But, I appear to have a roommate. There’s an older woman across the hall who is wailing for her mom. “Mom, Mom, Mom.” It’s likely some form of dementia. She becomes the soundtrack to my time on the sixth floor.
During the day, you were slowly working your way up the food chain. You started with clear, non-judgemental things like ginger ale, jello, and some sort of sorbet-esque thing.
My friends are the ones administering most of the food. Apparently Diane doesn’t trust me completely with food at this point. Jello is added to the repertoire and I’m not keen to eat it, even though it’s orange (my favorite color).
We have a calm and quiet afternoon that involved a group nap (Diane claimed to be comfortable on the floor), listening to music for the “Sicky” play list, reading, watching West Wing and browsing the internet on the iloverex wireless network.
And then it’s time for me to go to the bathroom. A nurse comes in to help me walk the five feet from the bed to the bathroom. She makes me put on those damn blue socks. That’s when I realize they have treads and their popularity makes just a little sense to me.
The nurse notices that my gown isn’t on properly.
The nurse also pretty much takes the gown off of you and reorients it on you without much of a heyhowyadoin.
I really have no modesty left but pals in the room avert their eyes.
Teri discovers a fridge full of ice cream, apple juice and Shasta and she brings ice cream for everyone.
I partake in the impromptu ice cream party and it stays put. Because of this I am allowed full reign of the “room service” menu for dinner. I joke about ordering hot and spicy food items but decide on cornflakes and toast. I eat the cornflakes but skip the toast, probably something to do with the fate of the toast I had that morning.
My grumpy boss Rod also stops by and for some strange reason he cheers me up. He even brings me flowers. We learn that we have visits to Rex and angiograms in common.
Rod is followed by Andrea. She brings a box that had been at my desk. I am positive that it is the cute running outfits I bought from Athleta but turns out to be a pair of shoes I ordered from Piperlime, mainly to get free shipping. Might have been for the best because I wouldn’t have been able to try on the clothes and their arrival would have punctuated that I won’t be running any time soon.
I’ve enjoyed the company of my coworkers and friends but I feel myself getting tired so I send everyone away. I feel like a bad host every time I do this even though I know my guests understand why I need them to leave.
Before I nap, I get a voice mail from my friend Candace. It’s unlikely that she know what’s going on and I delight in her message asking me if I’m going to do the Splash and Dash swim/run event this weekend. It’s just a nice reminder of normalcy even though participation in the event is out of the question.
After a long day at work, Adam comes by. He missed work on Wednesday and Thursday to be with me and now he’s catching up. I was told a physical therapist was going to stop by on Saturday so Adam takes me on a walk through the halls. I consider this training.
I’m wobbly, dizzy and tire easily but it’s still nice to move around and get a look out the windows. Adam helps me figure out where I am situated relative to Lake Boone trail – should the hospital decide to slide down it again.