Long time, no words. And by long time, I mean 5 months. 5 bloody months! Surely I could have found something to write about in that time, but no. I mean, things happened but I had lost the ability to assemble my words.
As I write this, I'm in hospital. Have been all week. And will be for the next two or three. There are both good and bad things about this……...
GOOD......
I have my own room and my own bathroom.
The food is not so bad.
The staff are great. Mostly.
There's a Starbucks on the ground floor of the hospital.
I'm starting intensive physiotherapy whilst I'm here.
AND they aren't crazy about children visiting on the ward, so I've been given a pass to go out……as long as I come back in the evening………so this means I SEE MY LITTLE MAN TOMORROW!!
BAD........
I miss my room, and everything in it. Especially the good man. Especially at bed time. I swear his arms are therapeutic. In fact, I miss my whole home. And everything/everyone in it. And the dog.
The drinks. How can tea taste SO BAD?
One nurse kept moving my wheelchair away from my bed, and therefore, out of reach. Because 'I was at risk from falls.' So when I said 'What if I need a wee?' 'Oh just do it in the bed. We can clean that up, I just don't want you to fall.'
And this shows you how crap I was feeling because I didn't chew her bloody face off whilst challenging her thinking.....
'So you think it's ok for me to sit in my own piss? That's bad for my skin, bad for my feelings of self worth, and BAD, SO BAD, because it's totally unnecessary. AND I won't fall if I'm in my wheelchair AND YES, I do transfer just fine....THANKS FOR FUCKING ASKING!!
There's a Starbucks. It's going to take ALL my money.
Physio.....nothing bad about it. Except the mirror at the end of the parallel bars, so I can see how wonky I am. And also how fat/old/tired I look. And how badly my hair needs doing.
I haven't seen my little man since I've been here. And that hurts. Really hurts, like a punch in the throat.
But on balance, the good out weighs the bad.
Win some, lose some.
As I write this, I'm in hospital. Have been all week. And will be for the next two or three. There are both good and bad things about this……...
GOOD......
I have my own room and my own bathroom.
The food is not so bad.
The staff are great. Mostly.
There's a Starbucks on the ground floor of the hospital.
I'm starting intensive physiotherapy whilst I'm here.
AND they aren't crazy about children visiting on the ward, so I've been given a pass to go out……as long as I come back in the evening………so this means I SEE MY LITTLE MAN TOMORROW!!
BAD........
I miss my room, and everything in it. Especially the good man. Especially at bed time. I swear his arms are therapeutic. In fact, I miss my whole home. And everything/everyone in it. And the dog.
The drinks. How can tea taste SO BAD?
One nurse kept moving my wheelchair away from my bed, and therefore, out of reach. Because 'I was at risk from falls.' So when I said 'What if I need a wee?' 'Oh just do it in the bed. We can clean that up, I just don't want you to fall.'
And this shows you how crap I was feeling because I didn't chew her bloody face off whilst challenging her thinking.....
'So you think it's ok for me to sit in my own piss? That's bad for my skin, bad for my feelings of self worth, and BAD, SO BAD, because it's totally unnecessary. AND I won't fall if I'm in my wheelchair AND YES, I do transfer just fine....THANKS FOR FUCKING ASKING!!
There's a Starbucks. It's going to take ALL my money.
Physio.....nothing bad about it. Except the mirror at the end of the parallel bars, so I can see how wonky I am. And also how fat/old/tired I look. And how badly my hair needs doing.
I haven't seen my little man since I've been here. And that hurts. Really hurts, like a punch in the throat.
But on balance, the good out weighs the bad.
Win some, lose some.
Hope you feel a bit better soon :( lots of love xxx
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