Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Hospital Living: Part 2

By the time I was admitted and had a room at the hospital on Thursday, I realized that I hadn't eaten all day other than two pieces of toast, and that had been breakfast.

I'm entertained by this hospital because they call the food service "Room Service." When you get your bed, they give you a menu (unless you're on a special diet, in which case the doctors and nurses decide what you should be eating). I'm on a general diet, meaning I have no restrictions so I can eat whatever I want, and whenever I want. However! Don't try to call in your dinner order after 6:30 PM, because that's when room service stops taking orders.

Of course, I'm just starting to get settled in my room (a private room with a horrible view but decent TV), and the nurse points out that it's almost 6:30, so I should order my tray (they don't refer to it as a meal or food - aways as "your tray"). Quickly glancing at the menu, I select the lemon baked cod and small garden salad.

I wait for my food.

I'm starting to get hungry.

Suddenly my transport arrives. They want to do another ultrasound on my leg just to be sure there are no clots.

My nurse says they'll leave my tray, and it should be waiting for me when I return.

So, I mentioned a transport up there. After being admitted to the hospital, I haven't had to walk anywhere - beyond the bathroom, that is. They always bring a wheelchair. It is a good thing because I don't think I could have walked all the way to the ultrasound and back. But I didn't even have to walk to my room in the first place. A kid (who looked way too young to have a job at a hospital and way too scrawny to push around someone my size) brought a wheelchair and brought me to my room.

Anyway, back to the ultrasound. Under normal circumstances, they probably wouldn't hurt anyone. But with my swollen and burning leg, the procedure is awful. It hurts to have anything touch my leg at any given time. For the ultrasound, they need to touch my leg. Youchies.

When I got back, my tray had arrived. I sit on the edge of the bed and have at it.

It's not the best fish, but I really wanted to eat, so I lifted the cover and was a little surprised at what I saw. It was a standard dinner plate, with a small piece of fish on it, next to a garnish of something green and a cherry tomato. That small side salad was truly a small side salad was truly that - small, sad little bowl with about 3 pieces of iceberg lettuce, a cucumber and another cherry tomato.

Hmm. Portion control is going to be a piece of cake.

Good thing I wasn't overly starving. I may have had nothing to eat all day, but this amount of food seemed perfect in context.

I ate a couple bites of fish, and it was good. But the next thing I knew a guy was there to drain half the blood from my body. He was nice, but I should have asked him what it was all for. He had to take samples from both arms. It took him a while of staring and prodding at my arms before deciding which one to poke - his personal philosophy as a lab tech was to poke people as few times as necessary, which he did for me.

Then I got to finish my dinner.

And now I'm done with this post because I'm getting loopy from the drugs and should probably take a nap. Once again, not proofreading. My apologies.

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