Finally Home

I was released from the hospital today. I had several complications after my surgery which required I stay in the hospital for almost a week. Pull up a chair cause this is gonna be a long blog. Also WARNING: The following content is graphic and somewhat gross. Not intended for the weak at heart...or stomach!

So Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) and I arrived at the hospital at 6 AM. Checked into the hospital and went to the appropriate floor to prep for surgery. I stripped down to nothing and put on the hideous gown. They put in an IV, took the necessary vital signs and I was whisked away to surgery relatively quickly. I remember being put into what was supposedly the operating room but looked more like a junky storage room. After that I guess they put me under cause the next thing I remember was trying to come to in the recovery room.

The surgery was successful. There was a small leak which they discovered and repaired before stitching me closed. Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) stayed in the waiting room the entire time and kept everyone updated on my progress. I awoke with all these machines attached to me taking my vitals. A some point they hooked me up to a morphine drip which all I can say was a Godsend. I would wake up and request ice chips for my very dry mouth and throat and then press a button for more morphine and be out again.

Unfortunately, I stayed in recovery for over 8 hours because they didn't have a hospital room available for me. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness so it was no big deal for me, but poor Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) was stuck in the waiting room all day with what he claims were a bunch of over the top hillbillies. He wasn't allowed in the recovery room to see me, but during one of my more alert moments I called him on my cell phone and talked to him briefly.

By about 5 or 6 o'clock that evening I told them to send Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) home. It looked like I was going to spend the night in recovery and there was no point in him sitting in the waiting room all night. Just as I told him to leave, they found me a room. So he stayed long enough to see me settled in the room and let everyone know where I was.

That night the nurses got me up walking around a little bit. They showed me how to give myself a shot of these blood thinners I was to be on for the next 10 days. I was still only allowed ice chips which they kept me completely stocked up with. The respiratory therapist came in and gave me some breathing exercise equipment to help keep my oxygen level up. The evening & night nurses were very attentive and friendly. The first night was relatively peaceful and calm.

However, the following day I woke up with a massive headache from a dead sleep. I called the nurse's station and told them about it. They claimed there were going to send my nurse in. As I laid waiting for my nurse I felt around by body and noticed that my stitches were completely wet. I called the nurse's station again and informed them that my stitches appeared to be leaking. The lady on the other end asked who I was, and I informed her that I called a little while ago complaining of a headache. I should have known then that I was in trouble.

By the time the nurse came in (20 minutes after my second call to the nurses station), I was hysterical. I had shortness of breath and wondered if my headache was because I hadn't taken my blood pressure medicine and maybe my blood pressure was high. I demanded they take my blood pressure and they refused saying I was too worked up. The rude ass nurse tried to tell me to calm down and see if my friend could bring me a DVD player or something cause people tend to get bored in a hospital. I told her I was not fucking bored. I had a headache which woke me up from a dead sleep. She blew me off and left me in my hysterical state after she at least changed my wet bandages.

I called Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) in a panic and he came up to the hospital (with flowers) to help calm me down. There was a shift change and the evening nurses came on duty much to my relief. I told everyone who would listen to me about the shitty day nurse including a woman who happened to be a hospital volunteer. Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) was proud of me for speaking up. I let the evening nurses (and later the night nurses too) know how much I appreciated them.

Eventually I calmed down and Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) went back home. I fell back asleep but still had the headache. This entire time I had always kept my room a meat locker because I was constantly hot. Well, during my nap when they came in to check on me, I asked them to turn my thermostat up. Another sign that something was wrong. I am rarely ever cold.

When they came back later to take my stats, I was running a 102 fever. They called my surgeon who told them to give me liquid Tylenol which tasted like baby aspirin to me. I called Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) and informed him of my condition and made sure to point out that I knew something was wrong with me. That the stupid day nurse should have listened to me. Little did I know how important that statement truly ended up being.

They put me on a IV feeding drip and continued to monitor me throughout the night. Well, my oxygen level dropped so low that they could not get a reading. They put me on 100% oxygen and my stats were not improving. The overnight nurse came in yelling at me (in a concerned way, not a mean one) that I needed to help them improve my breathing or they were gonna have to move me. I was wearing an oxygen mask and breathing in as deeply as I could.

They took a chest x-ray on me first thing in the morning and discovered I had fluid in my lungs. They then immediately stopped the IV feeding drip because I was just absorbing it into my lungs. Of course at the time, all they told me was that I was needing to be moved cause my condition required constant supervision that the current area I was in couldn't provide. I immediately called Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) again hysterical. It was barely 7 in the morning.

He came up to the hospital again to comfort me. Before he could arrive a pastor came to talk to me. That made me even more hysterical. Why did I need a pastor? Was I dying? They told him I was being moved and he immediately left. Joe (a.k.a. gay boyfriend) showed up as I was being moved and I was beyond consolable. Thus began my new adventures in a different hospital wing.

(Due to my current state of exhaustion, there will be a brief intermission...)