When last we left Heidi, she was in Recovery, waking up from her recent pass under the knife… :tongue
Did I mention that I had also shaved my legs for this? Of course I had. So what’s one of the first things they do? Tell me to change into the open-back gown & hand me a pair of surgical stockings. What a waste of a good razor. I totally could have gone Sasquatch & nobody would have been the wiser.
Anyhoo… They pushed me back to my room, where Madame Mommy Dearest was waiting. Or should I say she sneaked into the room right behind me. :hide Did she sit in the waiting room, wringing her hands, worrying about her darling daughter? Of course not! The woman went shopping! :ROFL The entire procedure, from being wheeled out of the room to being wheeled back in took an hour, tops. But in that time, she ran out for a handful of groceries & put gas in the car. Eh, who can blame her. And to be fair, I’d told her she should. Talk about good timing, though, huh? If I’d been a bit groggier, I never would have known she entered the room behind me. :humpf
BEST NURSE EVER Mary Jo was there to greet me, as well. She did all the usual poking & prodding—checking fluids, checking pulse & blood pressure, asking how I was feeling.
And you know how they want you to drink something, go to the bathroom, & be able to walk around on your own before they’ll release you, right? Well, I was feeling fine. Ready to hop up, walk back to the room on my own, & go home already. I was also thirsty & had to go to the bathroom, so no problem there. But they didn’t want me up & around quite that quickly, so she handed me a ginger ale, then told me that “between sets” (checking my blood pressure, pulse, etc.) she would let me get up & use the restroom.
Now, keep in mind that in the middle of all this, she keeps talking about my books & asking me about writing. So I ask her, “How long between sets?” And she says, “Oh, the doctor will talk to you about all that, but you won’t be having sex for a while.”
Um, that is so not what I was asking. (I may have felt well enough hop up & go home already, but it wasn’t for sweaty round of that. :inbed ) It actually took me a moment to realize what the miscommunication was, & believe me, we had a really good laugh about it. :ROFL She said she must have been thinking too much about reading the books I had given her, & I told her that’s what my books will do to you—sex on the brain. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. :wink
Once we got that confusion out of the way, I turned on the TV & discovered they had Lifetime, which was showing a Project Runway marathon. Have I mentioned how moderately obsessed I’ve been with Project Runway marathons lately? It’s weird, because I’ve always watched the show, but single viewings of new episodes used to tide me over just fine. Now suddenly, I can’t get enough. I was happy when I found it, too, because I’d known it was going to be on & thought I’d have to miss it.
So I start watching, & next thing I know… :sleeping Well, okay, I didn’t actually know that. But one minute I was lying there watching TV & the next the doctor was coming in to check on me—with an hour or two between that I have no recollection of whatsoever. (Madame Mommy Dearest says I was snoring, but I don’t believe her. Mistress Heidi does not snore. :whip )
The doctor asked how I was feeling, checked me over, said I’d done well…yes, I’ve always excelled at lying perfectly still while drugged to the gills…& gave me his after-care instructions. (NO SEX! :kittylaugh ) Then he said if I was feeling well enough, I could go. Didn’t take long for Mary Jo to remove the I.V., let me change back into street clothes (oh, how I’ll miss that roomy, open-air hospital gown :whistledev ), & deal with the paperwork. They even let me walk out under my own steam, as long as I promised to stop & sit down immediately if I started to feel dizzy or unwell.
Madame Mommy Dearest was my nurse from there on out, & God knows she tries. Unfortunately, she was born without the caregiver gene. The cats wouldn’t eat for her, so I had to do that, but she did get me a drink & a peel me a couple of oranges while I settled into my recliner in front of—you guessed it—Project Runway. It was still on.
Five hours later, my little black Pekoe Boo kitty started crying & climbing around on my chair. Groggy, I woke up & realized that A.) Project Runway was still on, but B.) I’d missed most of it. Again. The kittehs were also hungry again, so I had to get up to do that. MMD was there, & did make me some instant potatoes (my favorite feel-better food), but I pretty much had to take care of everything else.
Ate my potatoes, then… :sleeping Next time I woke up, it was 9 p.m. & the same kitty was bothering me for food again. (Are you beginning to see a pattern in my life? Uh-huh. And it’s like this every day, minus the post-surgical sleeping sickness & Project Runway marathons. :kittyplay )
I didn’t sleep quite as much the next day, or the one after that. I even finally managed to finish Kay Hooper’s Blood Ties, which was driving me crazy. I’d been carrying it around for days with only about 30 pages left to read. Grrrr. :smack
And now I’m totally back to normal. Or as normal as I get, at least. :knock No more surgeries, either, unless it’s The Big One.
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