Last time I was in the hospital I got a penguin. I was of course, seven years old. But I got a penguin. I named him Junior after my Dad. He is a Junior. I did end up getting a guitar book. They were having a book fair downstairs, and I found a good medium level guitar book. So Dad bought that for me.
Today was a rough day. There's a World War 2 veteran next door, and he's having flashbacks due to the Japanese earthquake. All the nurses are trying to calm him down, and I find myself hours past the time my medications are due. My Doctor came by, and he removed my packing and drainage tube while I had no pain medication in me. Still, that wasn't as bad as when I looked at my cut on my chest. I should not have done that. It's okay when it's someone else, but it's terrifying when it's your chest.
The good news is that I will be leaving the hospital on Tuesday morning. I will finally get rid of this dang I.V. bag. It makes me have to pee every hour or so. I'll just be glad to take a shower. They won't let me take a shower because they believe it gives me a higer risk of infection. So I am going to scrub like I have never scrubbed. Here's to soap and deoderant.
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