For those of you that didn’t get the joy of following my marathon postings this week (hospitals can be boring places), here’s a recap of the event which was “The Making of Neil 2.0”.
WEDNESDAY 27 March 9am
LOCATION: Rob’s car
This shit’s getting real. We are heading to the hospital now and if everything goes well, I should be recovering in a bed, off my head on pain-meds in around 4 hours.
LOCATION: Surgery theatre
I was wrong: it took 4 hours of me in an open-backed sexy gown with freezing feet before I got wheeled in to the theatre. And it looks exactly like in the movies…cool.
LOCATION: Ward 51 (I totally get the X-Files reference)
All I remember is Dr. Druggie giving something to “relax” me…BAM I wake up in my hospital bed with everything done and dusted. Sorta anticlimactic but I’m ok with that.
Did I mention that drugs are good?
9pm to THURSDAY 5am
Up and down all night. Not in huge pain but not totally comfortable. Was a bit nauseous on one of the meds. A quick jab of some magical goo into my arm put an end to that. I’m still loving drugs!
I was on Facebook all night checking out news and chatting with ya’ll. I really appreciated the distraction and the great support. Sorry if I was bugging you guys.
One curious thing was my stupid bladder. I wanted to pee so badly but nothing would come out, at least not until the night nurse threatened…I mean INFORMED me that they would use a catheter if necessary.
THURSDAY 28 MARCH 8am
I’m waiting to see physio and doc before heading home around 10am.
Lotta funny stuff happened between then and now. I won’t annoy you and post about it later; stupid WordPress lost my recent post…not impressed, as it’s a bitch doing this on my iPhone with one useable hand.
Peace out, kids!
PS: This whole process is full of comedy material. For example, I thought I’d piss myself laughing when Dr. Campbell pulled out a Texta at our meeting Tuesday to mark which shoulder he was going to be fixing. I’m extremely cool about there being no question about the location of the injury. And it’s good to know the humour of that wasn’t lost on him; Peter sorta smirked as he did it which, if you know him, is like a snorting guffaw from normal people.