A Hospital Rant: Day 1, Number 1
Right now I am sitting in my hospital bed - in my own clothing - don't get the idea that I have to wear a silly gown or anything. I would hate that. I finally got The Laptop That Was Formerly Grandpa's to jive with the wireless here. Yay for me! And now here is how my day went so far:
I woke up mysteriously at 8:30. I hate that time of the morning. I feel it is too early for me to get out of bed (especially when I didn't got to sleep until 1am), and I can't get back to sleep. So I got up. I played on my computer and took a nap (I know how silly it is to nap at 9:30 in the morning, but I do it anyways). Eventually the time to leave rolled around and I headed to the studio.
My attitude was horrible. I didn't want to be at the dance studio - I wanted to get being admitted to the hospital over with so I could set up the computer and tell you all what horrible things happened along the way. I also wanted to cuddle with Gladly The Bear - the best teddy bear in the world. If you want to know, later I will tell the story behind his name.
Yuck. I just had my first Respiratory Therapy treatment here in the hospital, so my lungs are all rattly and gross. Gross.
Anyways, after getting a beautiful gift from the team (I love you team! -It's sitting right by my bed now!) and being "elected" vice-captain for next semester, I left the studio. I called Chris and Kyra and it turns out Chris has the flu. The vomiting up your shoes flu. He felt awful that he couldn't help me get my stuff in - and I didn't want to make Kyra help because 1) it sounded like Chris is pretty sick, 2) I could probably do it myself and 3) I really didn't want to make a pregnant lady handle my heavy bags! But she insisted, so I headed to the hospital and met her there. (Random inserted thought here: I hope your car was fine, and didn't get towed because of my advice)
So Kyra and I haul all 6 of my bags into the hospital. I have Big Pink Suitcase and Little Pink Suitcase -they match and both roll. I had two tote bags - one with my med briefcase and a few random things and one filled with all the medications needed to refill the med briefcase. I carried my Medium Pink Backpack which carries mainly my non-electronic entertainment. It has knitting and Movies and Crayons (I brought them Sarah!) and other little things to amuse me. I also carried my giant purse.
Kyra and I made it to admissions without dying, and I was told my bed wasn't ready yet. What? Seriously? I was told to be here at 2pm and they would have a bed ready for me. I was told it would take over an hour to get the person out of my room (I try not to think of all the other people who have stayed in this room... creeps me out) and get it cleaned. So I was given a voucher to go buy food in the cafeteria. For this, I was glad Kyra was with me. Sure, I could have watched political coverage on CNN by myself, but I would never have had such an amazing conversation about religion and the bible had Kyra not been there.
After CNN we went back to admissions where I had stashed everything but my purse and we were told to wait. We waited almost another hour -despite being told at the beginning of that hour that it would only take 20 minutes to clean the room - and then I started to get anxious. It was nearly 4 and I wanted a bed. I was worn out and crabby and ready to take action.
So, with Kyra's help I took all my bags to the floor - and the desk clerk - who knows me, asked, "Who sent you up here? Your room isn't ready yet!" I replied, "I sent me." I had my vicious, "I'm here to make a raucous and make your lives hell until I get what I was promised" face on, and I was ready to raise hell.
I explained to staff that I was willing to sit and have my port accessed in the hall and talk to the doctor - waiving all my HIPPA rights, right there by the nurses station. One nurse suggested I go sit in the little lounge area - so that's what I did. I took all my bags to the lounge area, bid Kyra farewell, and made camp. People kept coming to check on me. My nurse came with my initial paperwork - and seemed totally cool with me taking things into my own hands and declaring the lounge as my own.
The doctor walked by, looked around confused, and asked me, "Are you Carla?" I told her yes, and she asked me why I was in the lounge. I said that they didn't have a room for me so I made a room. I told my mother over the phone that I was going to become the legendary troll of the E elevators. People would decide to take the long way around to get from D to F rather than cross my path.
It was amusing that the doctor actually talked to me in my make-shift room, my nurse accessed my port and started my paperwork. Then my room was ready - in record time. I guess they really don't want a patient that is supposed to be in full isolation chilling in the lounge and making it her germy, germy home.
I had a good time though. It was just so ridiculous for it to take so long to get my room ready when they told me what time to show up in the first place. And every time the hospital does something ridiculous, I do something more ridiculous.
Now I've had 2 doses of IVs, and I don't feel any better yet, of course, but I am relieved that I am here and my internet works. At first when I couldn't get it to work I nearly had a internet-withdrawal heart attack. My exact thoughts were, "Oh no! How can I blog if I can't get the internet to work!?!?!?!?" Which is one of the saddest thoughts I have ever had.
I woke up mysteriously at 8:30. I hate that time of the morning. I feel it is too early for me to get out of bed (especially when I didn't got to sleep until 1am), and I can't get back to sleep. So I got up. I played on my computer and took a nap (I know how silly it is to nap at 9:30 in the morning, but I do it anyways). Eventually the time to leave rolled around and I headed to the studio.
My attitude was horrible. I didn't want to be at the dance studio - I wanted to get being admitted to the hospital over with so I could set up the computer and tell you all what horrible things happened along the way. I also wanted to cuddle with Gladly The Bear - the best teddy bear in the world. If you want to know, later I will tell the story behind his name.
Yuck. I just had my first Respiratory Therapy treatment here in the hospital, so my lungs are all rattly and gross. Gross.
Anyways, after getting a beautiful gift from the team (I love you team! -It's sitting right by my bed now!) and being "elected" vice-captain for next semester, I left the studio. I called Chris and Kyra and it turns out Chris has the flu. The vomiting up your shoes flu. He felt awful that he couldn't help me get my stuff in - and I didn't want to make Kyra help because 1) it sounded like Chris is pretty sick, 2) I could probably do it myself and 3) I really didn't want to make a pregnant lady handle my heavy bags! But she insisted, so I headed to the hospital and met her there. (Random inserted thought here: I hope your car was fine, and didn't get towed because of my advice)
So Kyra and I haul all 6 of my bags into the hospital. I have Big Pink Suitcase and Little Pink Suitcase -they match and both roll. I had two tote bags - one with my med briefcase and a few random things and one filled with all the medications needed to refill the med briefcase. I carried my Medium Pink Backpack which carries mainly my non-electronic entertainment. It has knitting and Movies and Crayons (I brought them Sarah!) and other little things to amuse me. I also carried my giant purse.
Kyra and I made it to admissions without dying, and I was told my bed wasn't ready yet. What? Seriously? I was told to be here at 2pm and they would have a bed ready for me. I was told it would take over an hour to get the person out of my room (I try not to think of all the other people who have stayed in this room... creeps me out) and get it cleaned. So I was given a voucher to go buy food in the cafeteria. For this, I was glad Kyra was with me. Sure, I could have watched political coverage on CNN by myself, but I would never have had such an amazing conversation about religion and the bible had Kyra not been there.
After CNN we went back to admissions where I had stashed everything but my purse and we were told to wait. We waited almost another hour -despite being told at the beginning of that hour that it would only take 20 minutes to clean the room - and then I started to get anxious. It was nearly 4 and I wanted a bed. I was worn out and crabby and ready to take action.
So, with Kyra's help I took all my bags to the floor - and the desk clerk - who knows me, asked, "Who sent you up here? Your room isn't ready yet!" I replied, "I sent me." I had my vicious, "I'm here to make a raucous and make your lives hell until I get what I was promised" face on, and I was ready to raise hell.
I explained to staff that I was willing to sit and have my port accessed in the hall and talk to the doctor - waiving all my HIPPA rights, right there by the nurses station. One nurse suggested I go sit in the little lounge area - so that's what I did. I took all my bags to the lounge area, bid Kyra farewell, and made camp. People kept coming to check on me. My nurse came with my initial paperwork - and seemed totally cool with me taking things into my own hands and declaring the lounge as my own.
The doctor walked by, looked around confused, and asked me, "Are you Carla?" I told her yes, and she asked me why I was in the lounge. I said that they didn't have a room for me so I made a room. I told my mother over the phone that I was going to become the legendary troll of the E elevators. People would decide to take the long way around to get from D to F rather than cross my path.
It was amusing that the doctor actually talked to me in my make-shift room, my nurse accessed my port and started my paperwork. Then my room was ready - in record time. I guess they really don't want a patient that is supposed to be in full isolation chilling in the lounge and making it her germy, germy home.
I had a good time though. It was just so ridiculous for it to take so long to get my room ready when they told me what time to show up in the first place. And every time the hospital does something ridiculous, I do something more ridiculous.
Now I've had 2 doses of IVs, and I don't feel any better yet, of course, but I am relieved that I am here and my internet works. At first when I couldn't get it to work I nearly had a internet-withdrawal heart attack. My exact thoughts were, "Oh no! How can I blog if I can't get the internet to work!?!?!?!?" Which is one of the saddest thoughts I have ever had.
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