Rise And...What? in The Everyday (A Diary Of Sorts)

It's just a bit after eight in the morning, and I'm waiting for my breakfast to arrive. I can only imagine what the crap du jour might be.

It doesn't much matter, because I imagine I won't eat that much. I'm full of intravenous antibiotics and my stomach is upset because of them. One of the nurses gave me something for it, through the IV, and ithelped, but only nominally.

The stickers they use for the heatt monitor keep coming off. I'm too hairy, and the morning nurse, Leslie, tells me they don't shave people much anymore for heart monitoring, sincee it can lead to infection. Therefore, my hairy self doesn't allow the stickers to stick well.

The patient in the next bed has been docile, but strange. We had a conversation yesterday. At least, I think it was a converesation. I guess it was more like a monologue--an absurd one--as he did most all the talking before a nurse came around and reminded him he's not supposed tobe out of his bed without someone to walk with him. He has dutifully obeyed this order ever since, which relievs me. I mean, he's pleasant enough, but head injuries have not helped his sense of, well, almost anything.

Someone was just here to give me my breathing treatment. I use inhalers for asthma. Yes, i have that too. He was a nice man. So far, I've only run into one grouch in my stay, but I've only been here one night and into this morning.

I hope my cat doesn't miss me too much...

The surgeon should be coming in sometime today. I have no idea when I'll see him. He'll look at my infected arm and tell me whether the graft has to come out or not. I'm hoping it doesn't, but if he says it does, then Iguess it does.

I wonder how many times they'll be taking me out of this room to do tests on me...Lord, the poking and the prodding....

For the next few days, or more, that's my life,and life is what it is.