I knew that Jareau, Dani and Pamela were going to be visiting, and it’s always a pleasure to have them over. I got a phone call from Mare, who asked if she could drop by as well. I don’t like visitors to overlap, it makes for an awkward experience when they don’t know each other, then you turn into a host, trying to get people to get along, because it’s already an awkward experience to be in a hospital trying to comfort your emaciated friend who won’t shut up. I didn’t expect J and crew to stay past 9pm, so I suggested she come 9:30-10ish.
“What time is that?”
Mare doesn’t do well with the ambiguous range thing.
“Between 9:30 and 10pm”
“What time”
“…9:45”
“OK, I’ll be there at 9:45.”
The crew arrives and we do get into good conversation, and around 9pm we are wrapping up and doing the departure checklist, in which I go over things that would make me more comfortable in the Wing. Mare shows up early. There is that awkwardness, and I’m annoyed. The crew then heads out, and it’s just us, able to catch up.
I have been having fevers, and it’s another tylenol night, which I don’t look forward to. I have the sweat towel prepped, and the replacement ready to change it out. These towels are pretty cool, plastic on one side and a softer fabric on the other. This allows the patient that only sweats/bleeds/ etc to have the wet area changed without having to change the whole bed. I needed to change my towel, which I had done before. Doing it alone is a little more complicated when you can’t get out of the bed, and you’re hooked up to an IV. I asked Mare if she could help me. The plan was to stand up holding the bedrail, have her switch it out,and then sit back down. I hadn’t stood up in a long time. But I did make it up. The stand up part was kind of hard.
The falling down part was quite easy.
I don’t even remember going down. I don’t remember ripping the IV off my arm as it got caught on the bed rail. I don’t remember hitting my head against the trash can. I remember Mare helping me up. I remember seeing blood all over the bedrail. I remember apologizing and crying. I knew I was going to get in trouble. I had the super business nurse that evening, and she came into the room.
“Why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You fell, you’re OK. The IV came out, we’ll put another one in tomorrow. You’re not hurt. There’s no need to cry”
This information was not delivered in a consoling way. More like a report. Then Mare had to open her mouth.
“He hit his head. Against the trash can.”
Argh. Why did she have to say that?
“Mare, it’s a plastic trash can, I’m fine.”
The nurses ears perked.
“He hit his head?”
Now I was really upset with Mare. This was going to go into my mystery report. The nurse looked at my head.
The next morning I opened my eyes to so many doctors standing over me, I felt out of place for not having a white coat on. One of the doctors help up a book and pointed to it the cover. As my senses come into place I hear the the trailing of:
“….is this?”I squint, clear my eyes to read the cover.
“Yeah…it says INTERNAL MEDICINE”
The docs look at each other. Apparently the skill of reading is not expected outside of trained medical professionals.
“Let me ask again Shaka. What color is this book?”
“Oh, I just hadn’t heard the question. Green.”
The doctor points to something on the bed. I don’t remember what it was.
“What color is this?”
“Red. What is this, Sesame Street?”
Now I’m not happy. I’ve been woken up to play baby games. The doctors ask me if I know where I am. Do I know why I’m there. I answer all the question sufficiently, and the Whitecoats trail out. They told me I was scheduled for an MRI.
Now I know why they were concerned. They suspected a seizure. I keep trying to tell people that I’m fine.
Reflection and Realization:
I needed to change the pad at 9:30. I might have tried to do that on my own. That trash can was not usually in the place that it was. Had it not been there, most likely it would have been me cracking my head open on the the hospital floor, and Mare showing up 15 minutes later while the IV machine is ringing, and my non-clotting blood is leaking all over me. Instead I was back in bed and eating watermelon by 10pm.
Thank you Mare for coming early. There’s a reason I’m here. There is a purpose. It gives me a drive. Only slight problem is that I’m not sure what it is yet. But I’m ready for it.