Part 2
I had to wee.
This was the most present thing in my mind. I was dreaming. I had to pee. This was not a true dream or a true thing because what really was happening is I was starting to get some sense of feeling back and my stomach was full of gas from the lower body procedure. It was putting pressure on my bladder and everything.
Gotta go! I was dreaming. As with dreams, this dream makes absolutely no sense, but since I remember it, I’ll share it!
Imagine a white background. Got it? Okay. Now, I see a fairly badly drawn cartoon guy - it just was a guy, my dream - in front of it. He’s running. His legs are at 90-degree angles at all times because it’s a terrible animation. He’s dressed like a superhero and all in orange. Light orange on the arms, legs, tummy, part of the face mask. Darker orange on the knees, elbows, crotch area and chest.
Running, running. Gotta find a place to wee. Did I just wee the bed? I’m starting to wake up. I’m starting to become more aware. There is a dance going on around me.The people in recovery all have a job to do as a patient wakes up, and they do it with perfect precision. I have no idea what they’re doing, just that they’re dancing around and doing things. I’m vaguely aware that, as I wake, my hands are tied down out to the side. This doesn’t alarm me because I trust the people around me completely. It’s fine.I’m in and out, and next time I wake up a little more, it’s just me and a nurse who has been assigned to me. My hands are free from restraint.
“Am I still wearing a catheter?” - my first, vitally important question. Probably not the first thing I said, but the first thing I really remember.
“No.”
I’m sure I looked horrified. I was sure I’d wee’d the bed. But it didn’t feel like it, so I drifted off again. As I woke up more, I noticed other dances as other people were brought in. The bed across from me came in, had their dance, and left before I was sent off. The bed next to me was sleeping peacefully. Snoring. It sounded like Edie Beagle’s snores. A definite source of comfort.
Finally, I was getting more awake. I found the clock behind me around 4:30pm. As I became more awake, the nurse talked to me more. “Are you having any pain?” “A little.” Immediately I was hooked up to a 15-minute Tylenol infusion. The pain receded. I think I drifted off again.
My nurse needed to go to a training at 6pm about the coronavirus or COVID-19. I kept telling them they needed to go because I felt that it was very important. Even not high now, I still feel that way, and I think they made it. They ended up having a porter take me to my room.
The porter took me up on the secret elevator and was telling me how they believed it was the end of days. You know, normal talk for someone who is a little high and just out of surgery. It’s cool. I think it’s funny. It’s not end of days. Nope. I won’t allow it.
And then I was in a private room, and oh my gosh I had to wee.
Except I didn’t, really. It was just gas. It really was the perfect setup, though. I’d call for help and the nurses would come get me and I wasn’t wearing anything but my birthday suit under my gown. Very convenient for toilet time!
It was early evening by this time, and my husband came up to be with me for a while before he would go home and sleep. I was in good hands, I didn’t expect him to pretend to try to sleep in the hospital. Plus, the dogs were already confused by a day of other people stopping by to take care of them. A little normal for everyone was a good idea.
Tune in tomorrow for the thrilling conclusion of this part of the story!