Today was actually a pretty entertaining day. I had oodles of visitors, I did some laps, spent a bit of time on the phone, and moved to a different hospital. Which means that I got zero of those goals I mentioned yesterday completed! But that's okay, because I was able to forget for a moment that I'm not a productive member of society right now, because I was sorrrrt of productive, in that I entertained eight people in the flesh. Or so I tell myself!
In no particular order, I was visited by Ness, Jamie, Viv, Brad, Emma and Mark (plus Arthur), Kirsti and Alice. Must be some kind of record, and it certainly made my day go by faster.
I clocked up 50 laps of the ward whilst on the phone to Rachel; discovered that my prickly old Site Superintendant was actually really stressed about me being in hospital; talked to my supervisor for a bit; and spoke to my aunt and my cousin, my dad and my mum.
I was visited by my surgeon this morning, who confirmed that the operation will go ahead tomorrow. He caught me tying the laces on my Asics up for my laps around the ward this morning, and asked if I was planning to go for a run. We got talking, and then we started comparing walking and running apps on our iPhones. It turns out he has a really good bedside manner, and I found myself laughing and joking along with him. When he's not being all serious and surgeon-y, he has quite a twinkle about him. And we all know that I like twinkly people! So I guess I'm in good hands.
I was transferred to the Coronary Care Unit at Royal Melbourne in the afternoon, and Kirsti came along for the ride. She'd made me white chocolate and raspberry brownies, so if that's not an incentive for y'all to visit, I don't know what is ;) (But call first, because they may transfer me back to Melbourne Private for recovery.) Probably the best thing about having a huge stash of brownies is that I will be Nil By Mouth from midnight, just in case they actually get me into surgery first thing (which is a possibility, considering I'm not actually on the list, or else they'll send me in whenever they can squeeze me in), so I can eat a brownie at 11:59pm and not feel like I'm totally famished. Not that I'm about to fade away to a shadow!
I was here in the CCU a couple of years back after my little cardiac episode during a hike and subsequent helicopter ride, so I know my way around the place fairly well. Weird how different this place is to Melbourne Private, but at the end of the day the staff are still good, just busier. Oh, plus there are obviously budget restrictions. Little things like at MPH, they have little disposable fabric bags for the telemetry units. Here? Snap-lock bag with string. If that's not tragic I don't know what is, and I'm seriously contemplating sewing them a bunch of fabric ones like they had last time I was here. I have no idea what happened to them, but seriously, snap-lock bags?? I've had to fix my bag with tape twice already to stop it from ripping!
The food here is also crapola. My initial thought - that RMS shared the same kitchen with MPH - has now well and truly been lead out to the paddock, shot in the head and buried, and the grave jumped up and down on several times with great energy, all whilst performing some kind of smoking ceremony. Seriously. I was served my favourite meat of all time - corned beef - and it was served with rice. Rice! Who the hell serves rice with corned beef?? It should be potato, preferably mashed! Everyone knows that! Sheesh. Way to ruin my last supper, guys. Although, I have to tell you, corned beef is my "last supper" meal of choice (yes, really)... but it's with mashed potatoes, peas and carrots and is chased by apple crumble with vanilla ice cream. This was corned beef with rice, carrots and beans. And I'm believer enough in The Universe to take comfort in the fact that there was no mashed potato on my plate. I know that sounds silly, but you grab on to what you can when you're feeling as insecure as I am right now.
Anyway, I'd better get going. I have to wash my hair tonight, seeing as how it's the last time in a couple of weeks I'll be able to easily lift both my arms above my waist, because they're not sure whether or not I'll be whisked off to surgery early in the morning, and I certainly won't have time to rinse and repeat if they do!
If I am first cab of the rank, rather than at 3pm like the surgeon thought, my mum will crack it and mayyyy even have some kind of breakdown. She wants to be here when I go in, and, frankly, I'm kind of scared of the prospect of being alone and of not seeing my family, on the offchance that something does go wrong and I don't get to say goodbye. In the unlikely (touch wood) event something does go wrong, though, I've written a post that is sitting in my Drafts folder that I will get Kirsti to publish for me. She has my password and everything so, worst case, it's there. Hopefully none of you ever see it.
Well, that's it. Hopefully when I next write to you I will have had a successful surgery, and it will have all gone very straightfoward-ly and they won't need to have cracked open my ribcage, and I will be as high as a kite on huge doses of Endone or similar. That should be amusing for you.
Argh, I don't want to stop writing. It's like while I'm writing I'm still connected by the filament of the internet to everyone, and I'm scared and don't want to be alone tonight. I know I'm scared because when I hugged my friends goodbye I started to lose my bundle a bit. Totally doesn't count if nothing runs down your cheeks, though! And although I have always been stronger when I am alone - because then I have to be - sometimes you just want someone there to hold your hand when you're terrified.
But if all the good vibes and positive thoughts and prayers that have come from those I know (and even those I don't) are what will get me through tomorrow, then I know I will be absolutely fine. I have had such an incredible amount of support and love from so many people, even people I barely know, and I just wanted to say thanks for that. It helps me believe I'll be okay. There are a lot of people out there with big hearts, obviously hearts that are somewhat less faulty than mine, and I'm feeling the love.
Right. That's it. I'm out. I'll see ya when I'm looking at ya.
In no particular order, I was visited by Ness, Jamie, Viv, Brad, Emma and Mark (plus Arthur), Kirsti and Alice. Must be some kind of record, and it certainly made my day go by faster.
I clocked up 50 laps of the ward whilst on the phone to Rachel; discovered that my prickly old Site Superintendant was actually really stressed about me being in hospital; talked to my supervisor for a bit; and spoke to my aunt and my cousin, my dad and my mum.
I was visited by my surgeon this morning, who confirmed that the operation will go ahead tomorrow. He caught me tying the laces on my Asics up for my laps around the ward this morning, and asked if I was planning to go for a run. We got talking, and then we started comparing walking and running apps on our iPhones. It turns out he has a really good bedside manner, and I found myself laughing and joking along with him. When he's not being all serious and surgeon-y, he has quite a twinkle about him. And we all know that I like twinkly people! So I guess I'm in good hands.
I was transferred to the Coronary Care Unit at Royal Melbourne in the afternoon, and Kirsti came along for the ride. She'd made me white chocolate and raspberry brownies, so if that's not an incentive for y'all to visit, I don't know what is ;) (But call first, because they may transfer me back to Melbourne Private for recovery.) Probably the best thing about having a huge stash of brownies is that I will be Nil By Mouth from midnight, just in case they actually get me into surgery first thing (which is a possibility, considering I'm not actually on the list, or else they'll send me in whenever they can squeeze me in), so I can eat a brownie at 11:59pm and not feel like I'm totally famished. Not that I'm about to fade away to a shadow!
I was here in the CCU a couple of years back after my little cardiac episode during a hike and subsequent helicopter ride, so I know my way around the place fairly well. Weird how different this place is to Melbourne Private, but at the end of the day the staff are still good, just busier. Oh, plus there are obviously budget restrictions. Little things like at MPH, they have little disposable fabric bags for the telemetry units. Here? Snap-lock bag with string. If that's not tragic I don't know what is, and I'm seriously contemplating sewing them a bunch of fabric ones like they had last time I was here. I have no idea what happened to them, but seriously, snap-lock bags?? I've had to fix my bag with tape twice already to stop it from ripping!
The food here is also crapola. My initial thought - that RMS shared the same kitchen with MPH - has now well and truly been lead out to the paddock, shot in the head and buried, and the grave jumped up and down on several times with great energy, all whilst performing some kind of smoking ceremony. Seriously. I was served my favourite meat of all time - corned beef - and it was served with rice. Rice! Who the hell serves rice with corned beef?? It should be potato, preferably mashed! Everyone knows that! Sheesh. Way to ruin my last supper, guys. Although, I have to tell you, corned beef is my "last supper" meal of choice (yes, really)... but it's with mashed potatoes, peas and carrots and is chased by apple crumble with vanilla ice cream. This was corned beef with rice, carrots and beans. And I'm believer enough in The Universe to take comfort in the fact that there was no mashed potato on my plate. I know that sounds silly, but you grab on to what you can when you're feeling as insecure as I am right now.
Anyway, I'd better get going. I have to wash my hair tonight, seeing as how it's the last time in a couple of weeks I'll be able to easily lift both my arms above my waist, because they're not sure whether or not I'll be whisked off to surgery early in the morning, and I certainly won't have time to rinse and repeat if they do!
If I am first cab of the rank, rather than at 3pm like the surgeon thought, my mum will crack it and mayyyy even have some kind of breakdown. She wants to be here when I go in, and, frankly, I'm kind of scared of the prospect of being alone and of not seeing my family, on the offchance that something does go wrong and I don't get to say goodbye. In the unlikely (touch wood) event something does go wrong, though, I've written a post that is sitting in my Drafts folder that I will get Kirsti to publish for me. She has my password and everything so, worst case, it's there. Hopefully none of you ever see it.
Well, that's it. Hopefully when I next write to you I will have had a successful surgery, and it will have all gone very straightfoward-ly and they won't need to have cracked open my ribcage, and I will be as high as a kite on huge doses of Endone or similar. That should be amusing for you.
Argh, I don't want to stop writing. It's like while I'm writing I'm still connected by the filament of the internet to everyone, and I'm scared and don't want to be alone tonight. I know I'm scared because when I hugged my friends goodbye I started to lose my bundle a bit. Totally doesn't count if nothing runs down your cheeks, though! And although I have always been stronger when I am alone - because then I have to be - sometimes you just want someone there to hold your hand when you're terrified.
But if all the good vibes and positive thoughts and prayers that have come from those I know (and even those I don't) are what will get me through tomorrow, then I know I will be absolutely fine. I have had such an incredible amount of support and love from so many people, even people I barely know, and I just wanted to say thanks for that. It helps me believe I'll be okay. There are a lot of people out there with big hearts, obviously hearts that are somewhat less faulty than mine, and I'm feeling the love.
Right. That's it. I'm out. I'll see ya when I'm looking at ya.
HOW COULD I FORGET THE BATONS?!!!
ReplyDeleteAlso, oops.
Also, the 11:59 brownie was magnificent, although I'm starrrrving now!
Also, you don't get ALL the shit jobs - Ness did a load of washing for me!
xoxo