Things were beginning to take on a surreal aspect. I had visitors. One evening, the Cavalry and his wife came by. The next day (I think), it was the Piano Tech and his wife. I was getting a bit fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate.
The x-ray supervisor insisted on getting me some decaf tea. When the kitchen didn’t have any honey, she went out and bought some along with a bunch of bananas. I was getting spoiled.
When the PT and wife came, they also went to visit Genese. She sent a gift back by them—six packets of Dandy Blend with a ribbon on top of the box held in place by a paperclip. I got a kick out of that (I’m sure that’s what she intended) and the PT and wife looked puzzled. I told them to have Genese tell the story of the paperclip the next time they went to see her. (This is the best picture I could manage. It still isn’t steady as she goes.)
Another of my friends from church came to see me. There were cards brought in and one had gone to the house in the mail. Cuz brought it down. It had a nice tucket of cash enclosed. My academy roommate knows my favorite color—GREEN!
The food continued to be a huge percentage of starches. The doctor ordered steroids to help with my breathing and my blood sugar spiked. The first test came in at 256. Cutoff was 191. If I went over that, I had to have a shot of insulin before a meal. My fingertips were assaulted three times a day.
My being pretty much stationary was a concern. That resulted in blood thinners injected daily into my belly fat. Each little injection would make a pretty bruise.
By that time, I had been admitted as inpatient from observation so there were more papers to sign. My signature was so shaky, it wasn’t even funny. I thought of all the people’s shaky signatures I’d witnessed over the years and here I was, one of them.
The IV in my right arm started infiltrating so another had to be started. When the nurse finished, he cheerfully announced, “That’s either the third or fourth time I’ve done that!” He did a good job and it held the rest of my stay.
Nursing was very busy and I hated every time I had to push the call button. The second day, I was able to get up and go to the bathroom by myself so that was one thing I didn’t have to bother them with.
Employees I knew would stop in to see me. It was like being home again. My sister wanted to know if it seemed strange to be on the other side of the fence but I’d been there before, too.
The main topic of conversation was the next winter storm that was headed our way. It was bound to hit and I was so glad I wasn’t home alone, hacking up a lung.
When the meal trays would be brought in, I’d gingerly peek at everything and pick. I knew if I didn’t get some tasty nourishing food, I would never get well. It was getting to be Situation Critical.