Tuesday, September 01, 2015
mad to be home
Everyone is entitled to at least one March hare mad day while in the hospital.
Mine was on Monday. In spades.
When I first talked with one of the doctors about hospitalization, he told me the stay would be for three days. The admitting doctor said five. Based on the progress of my left leg, my stay, now, will be at least six days.
I thought I would be fine with that. Being confined to bed was exactly what I needed to recover. To avoid boredom, I brought along all manner of reading material.
That worked well the first day. On Monday night, I came down with a racking cough that kept me awake all night. Fortunately, I am in a hospital, and the experts came to my rescue with medication in my IV bag and a breathing machine to deliver steroids.
Between the steroids, the antibiotics, the decongestants, the anti-inflammatories, the antihistamines, the anticoagulants, and the diuretics, I was a drained man. About thirty minutes into my treatment with the mask for the breathing machine, I had what could kindly be called a panic attack. Looney Tune moment would be more accurate.
I told the nurse, "Take that thing away. No more" -- in my best Albert Finney voice.
The Finney reference must have put me in a Shakespearean mood. When my friend Ewa arrived for a visit, I was asleep muttering: "They are going to kill the king. They are going to kill the king."
With a conspiratorial glint in my eye, I let Ewa in on a secret that I had just discovered. The hospital was trying to suffocate me with its breathing machine. It wasn't a cask of malmsey. But it would do.
The doctors assured me I was not the Duke of Clarence and they would remove the big bad machine. The doctor, who treated me for the cough, later told me he had slipped a mickey into my IV. That would certainly pass the medical probability test.
Other than my bout of traipsing about in Vivian Leigh's shoes, all is going well. The swelling and roseacea have receded. But a bit more rest should do it -- and me -- even better.
My cough is gone -- along with the dreaded machine. Oddly, my glucose readings have skyrocketed -- as has my blood pressure. The doctor says neither is unusual with the treatments I have been receiving.
So, here I am. Too exhausted to read, but looking forward to my discharge later this week.
I have nothing but praise for the medical staff here, But more on that after I leave.
I am not that mad.