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Home from the hospital. It feels good. Tomorrow I’ll start updating those days with the photos I took and text from my notes.

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Not taken from my hospital room

I don’t know how it happened, but I failed to take a picture today. Usually when this occurs I will scramble and snap something, photogenic or not, and use that. Today, however, I went back and chose a picture that I almost used on May 5th. I hope no one feels cheated.

I started the day in the hospital (of course), waking up early because I was already anxious to be going home. It still wasn’t a done deal because I wasn’t going to hear from Dr. Meyer until sometime in the afternoon. So I ate breakfast and tried to keep my mind off leaving.

I had the nurse help me to the bathroom, which is something of a pain when you can use the walker and are not tethered to the IV rack. When I was finished I decided to not call for assistance, and just went out and sat in the chair. I figured, rightly, that the nurse would probably think the aide had helped me, and vice versa. The nurse came into the room a few minutes later and connected me to a new round of IV antibiotic.

Sara and Charlie came to visit, bringing a plant and a card. That helped my disposition a bit. While we were talking two women came into the room. They told me how much better I was looking. I had no idea who they were and told them I didn’t remember meeting them. They told me they had seen me before my surgery on Monday. I remember pretty much everything that had happened since I arrived at the hospital, but I don’t remember meeting those women. I don’t think I did meet them, but they meet so many people who I’m sure we are all one big blur to them. Also while we were talking, Dr. Shah’s nurse came in and told me that they were pretty sure I would be released that afternoon, and that they had scheduled appointments for me with my primary care doctor, and a follow-up with Dr. Moon. Excellent!

I ate lunch, and Mary came to visit me. She is like a sister in so many ways. The two biggest differences is that we didn’t fight as kids because we didn’t know each other, and she is a cat person. She even brought a balloon with cats on it. I guess that makes it my turn to find something anti-cat to give or send to her. Two o’clock came and went. Mary had left, the IV antibiotic bag emptied, I disconnected from the IV rack again, and Dr. Meyer still hadn’t shown up.

When the nurse came in to check my vitals I asked her if it would be OK for me to shed the hospital gown and put on some of my own clothes. She gave me the go ahead and helped me into the bathroom to change. Shortly after that Dr. Shah came in to give me a quick check, and to assure me that I should be leaving after Dr. Meyer saw me. Still no Dr. Meyer.

Around 4:15 Dr. Meyer strolled in. He shone his flashlight in my mouth and unwrapped my foot. He looked at it and nodded. Then he told me the name of the bacteria that they found in the cultures they took (don’t expect me to remember the name) and that it was a staph infection. He said it could be treated with an oral antibiotic that he had prescribed. He said that he would give the scrip to the nurse and have her re-dress my foot; than I could go home. I called Cindy to come get me.

Twenty minutes later I was still waiting when the nurse came in and asked, “What’s up?” I told her I was still waiting to have my foot wrapped. She looked at it and said, “Who did that?” I told her it had been Dr. Meyer. It seems he had given her the scrip but failed to tell her she was to dress the wound.eing the good person she is, she started assembling the things she needed. That’s when Cindy walked in, ready to cart me off. I asked her to pack up my clothes while my foot was getting wrapped. She did, but with a scowl.

Of course, that wasn’t the end of it because we had to go through the discharge papers. Cindy took my things to the car while DeeAnn, the nurse, rolled me to the discharge office. Cindy found us as the kind lady was getting the paperwork ready. Cindy seemed irritated that I had called her and that she had arrived before I was ready to be wheeled out the door. She started making snarky comments, as only she can do. At one point she looked at me and said, “That woman is listening to us.” I remained silent but thought that, yes, people will listen if you talk loud enough. Finally the paperwork was done, all of the signatures were taken, and I was free to leave. Cindy drove to CVS and dropped off my scrip, then went to KFC to pick up dinner. She took me home, ate with me, and then left to catch the last half of BINGO. We all have our rituals.

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