Bits and bobs
I think I reached peak boredom this morning.
It was so bad I even decided to wire up my laptop just to download files. Downloading files is something I normally would do every day and it would normally take less than a minute. Here it can take up to an hour. Fucking rotten wifi!
But seeing as I have the thing set up and wires traipsing everywhere I might as well alleviate my boredom by scribbling something?
I have already caused problems for the female who looks after cannulas. She came around with a student nurse and I had to disconnect just so she could get at the bed.
Cannulas seem to be a staple part of hospital life these days. The first thing they do is to stick one or two into your arm as a sort of quick plumbing solution into the bloodstream. They are a sort of USB for transfusions. Anyhows, Cannula Lady came around and announced that I was to have new ones. This is normal – they like to change them every couple of days in order that my arms look like well used pin-cushions. However, this time was different: Student Nurse was to do the job.
I have good veins [or so I have been told]. Student Nurse took a good while examining my arm and finally announced that she had found one. Cannula Lady agreed and gave me a wink. So then we had the swab and the sting. Student Nurse had to be reminded to warn me of the sting which was just as well as she did lack a little finesse in that area. Nevertheless the cannula was inserted and was duly wrapped up in plasters and tape. Student Nurse was then given the job of removing the old one which was grand. I told her she’d done a great job. She positively glowed.
No sooner had Cannula Lady and her sidekick gone when Antibiotic Lady arrived. She promptly plugged a hanging bag into my new cannula which means I’m now stuck here until the antibiotic is drained into me.
Then along came dinner.
Dinner, or in fact any mealtime is a major pain in here. It’s the one time I dread as each time I am presented with a plate of abomination which I am expected to eat and frankly I just can’t face it. In the beginning I would scrape half a forkful more out of politeness than anything. They failed to take the hint however so now I just send it back. That’s three or four “meals” a day which are wasted and would have been welcome on a pig-farm. I have just sent another one back untouched. I’m not sure what it was as it looked exactly like every other previous offering. I have had words with Diet Lady about this and she agrees that maybe I should be offered something a little more tasty. However nothing has happened there so far.
I’m a little puzzled actually. This is the start of my sixth week here [!] and to date I haven’t had a meal. I have had pots of yogurt, ice cream, mousse and other little delicacies but no meal. Why am I not starving? I should be Belsen-like at this stage but I’m not. Maybe I’m just being fed pure antibiotics?
Okay. “Dinner” has been removed, a quite nice lemon mousse devoured along with a load of pills [they throw pills at me at regular intervals] and my cannula disconnected.
That means I’m free to go for a pee.
I think you must have a very efficient metabolism that converts into energy 100% of the tiny amounts you consume.
Some chocolate cake might be in order!
Heh! Though crumbly food still tends to go a little astray…
It’s good to hear you in form again. I’ve had to have teeth out lately, but was put off by implants (price and difficulty), but my dentist was superb with the injections. Glad to hear that you’re healing as well, but I guess that the next steps will take longer then we all hope.
Changing cars can be fraught for me as I’m always looking out for problems (a bit like buying a horse!) so I wish you luck with yours (and in finding a Haynes).
You’d better watch the eating or Herself (or Daughter) will be taking you round clothes shops when nothing fits any more!
Take Care
Ian J
I’m not that worried about the new car. The main essentials are pretty standard so the only thing to check are the controls for indicators and lights. I deal with the rest over time.
I actually lost a little weight a year or so ago so I have a wardrobe (I.e. two outfits?) that will fit nicely in the event of an enlargement.
The human body’s pretty smart, it usually know when it needs stuff and when it doesn’t. But yours has had some pretty substantial trauma and it will now be engaged in activating whatever self-repair functions it has, thus will need fuel to power those.
So, despite its unappetising nature, there could be some benefit in forcing some of the grizzly gruel down, if only to fuel the internal services to effect their repairs. OK, it may not achieve anything, but it might . . . . we may never know.
No need to worry. I have been promoted foodwise to a better level. Earlier, i polished off a plate of bacon (in parsley sauce), turnip and mashed potato. I might add that all ingredients looked and tasted the part and the mashed potato was the real stuff.
Great!
Sounds as if one of the cooks knows how to encourage a patient – bacon and mashed potato (with butter I hope) sounds smashing!
PS Do you call a swede a turnip?
Swede? Turnip? Possibly. Neither vegetable is one I tend to use in the kitchen.
Isn’t there a restaurant somewhere in the ghastly place that you can go to , or are you on ward arrest, with all the unnecessary escape alarms to stop you exploring.
There is a huge area that I suspect does food but I have never seen it open as such. Anyway,as I said above, things have improved radically in that area. Who says hunger strikes don’t work?
Noted.