Monday, March 5, 2012

Friday in Lockdown

More compilation of text messages and Facebook messages.

I feel like I was kicked in my sleep by 15 mean people. Something is seriously wrong with this bed. Or I was abducted by aliens.

Oh thank goodness...the interventional radiologist guys were just up here to tell me about the lumbar/rf/cement procedure that they can do early this afternoon! I wish it was right now!
February 24 at 8:49am

Interventional Radiology procedure on my vertebrae at 1:00pm. Counting down to being knocked out! Hope they aren't going to expect any climbing maneuvers to mount their gurney...

Friends - be patient. Tired - interuptions - stoll mee dammit. Cant even type! Udoayed later.
February 25 at 11:20am

Pain. Too tired to type.or think.

‎(insert long story here - what details I remember of the procedure - to come) I really wanted to go home today. I was upset and feel like I was not getting betting here and the economic side that was not making for a great balance.

Long story short all decided that th probem was my bed. The ordered special matteess from a clandestine location. It is an air mattress that auto maticaly adjuststhe preasure pioints. Ican feel my hip. Pressing into the hardness beneath. Ever bottom out in an air mattress camping and awake sore the next day? Terriblely sore? X50 and that's how bad I'm going to be in the morning. I need to figute something out while I am still slightly lucid. Tomorrow I am baxk to wanting to go home...if I make it through the night.

I told the nurse., and she adjusted the weight input and seems now too be preventing the "bottom out".

But something in my body has shifted in a bad way. My hips are not right. I am not even sure I can get myslf turned over. I may even pee the bed soon as well.

I think all the nurses over thr last few days have branded me Bad Patient. They haveall either clammed up completely answer tersely when necessary or are uber polite to the fake lenght of sounding like they are reading a training script. It's a good thing the meals come frome a completely separate dept pr I'd suspect spit in my food. I am suddenly suspecting that I'm being given placebos. I'm kind of freaking out here.

 Why do grown women have to act like Junior HS Cheerleaders? I'm about to fall asleep again, so I'd better make some attempts.

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