From my human, CC:

One year ago today, I had my appointment with the specialist at UNC Hospital.  She glanced at me in the examination room and told me she was admitting me into the hospital.  Granted, she had already spoken with my other GI doc and had an idea what was going on, but considering when she came in I was just laying on the exam table in a lump because I didn’t have enough energy to sit in the chair – that was probably a sign.

She went across the way and grabbed the surgeon by the sleeve and brought him over to me and introduced him.  We chatted for a bit and then he went out and chatted with my husband and father for a bit.  The plan was to admit me into the hospital, get pain killers in me (AMEN!!!) and start me on IV nutrition.  They decided to wait several days before doing the colectomy surgery since I was so under-nourished and they weren’t sure how well I would make it through the surgery in my state (yikes!).

And then we waited…and waited…and waited.  Someone from the IV team came and finally got an IV in me, but she said it probably wasn’t very likely someone was going to be able to get another in me any time soon (oh goodie!).

And we waited some more…

Apparently, the hospital was full up that day.  Finally, they ended up putting me in one of the rooms that is used for sleep studies just for this night but we were going to be kicked out of that room at 7am (apparently no sleep studies that night).  The room was awesome because it was like a hotel room.  With my own bathroom (thank goodness)!

Even though at this point I had my IV, I had not yet gotten the clearance for the good drugs yet…by this time I really, really wanted those pain meds.  I had been promised pain meds and the thought of no longer having pain sounded like some sort of dream come true.

So we waited, and waited some more.  Finally, the surgeon’s chief resident came to examine me.  She took a look at the catastrophe which was my rear end and said, “I’m glad I’m not you!”  I think I replied, “I bet you are!”  But, the result of the exam was I got the good pain meds after that (morphine and something else magical – Percoset, I think).

I say magical because later that evening I had the following conversation with my husband:

Me: Did you just see that?
Husband: See what?
Me: The guy in the purple, plush turtle suit riding the bicycle.
Husband: Ummm….no.  Where did he go?
Me: Out the door.
Husband: No.  There is no one here like that.
Me: OK.  I just wanted to make sure I was the only one going crazy.

And then I turned over and went back to sleep.  Gotta love the drugs!

07-11-13. Purple turtle suit

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