I am home.
My cat does not want to leave my side. She is purring and nestling against me. I am loved as is she. We were apart for too long. I may have suffered in the hospital but I think this ordeal was toughest on her.
I have much to say about my experience in the hospital which, apart from the nursing staff, was not positive. But now is not the time. I am depleted.
My mom picked me up from the hospital and we stopped to get me a giant burrito with guacamole on the way home. I couldn’t finish it but demolished what I could. Loved every bite.
I am so happy to be in my own bed. I really can’t bring myself to think about the past 14 days.
I am on a continued bowel regimen with medication. I also have to give myself a daily shot in the leg to prevent blood clots. I am very squeamish about medical things and it’s hard for me but I had a great nurse on one of my last days who insisted I give myself the shot under her supervision. Had we not done that, I don’t know what I would have done at home. She showed me how to do it and that’s what I’m doing now. She grew up in a different country to which I had traveled years ago so we had a lot to talk about – good, interesting conversations.
I was in the hospital for so long that I was able to partially recuperate from the surgery. I can walk the stairs (I practiced in the hospital) and don’t need the twin bed I bought in anticipation of a 5 day discharge. I hope someone I know will want it when we move.
I spent today just getting my bearings and resting. I took my first shower with a garbage bag tied around my torso to prevent the water from directly hitting the incisions. Far superior to the baby wipes I was using in the hospital. Hot water. Cleanliness. These are the things that matter. (A nurse in the hospital refused to let me walk on the floor in bare feet telling me, “You don’t want to know what’s on these floors.” She was adamant and put the socks on my feet herself.)
The back pain (by my kidney) that I thought I was having in the hospital due to the bed has followed me home where I have an ultra firm mattress. It’s not back pain. I believe it’s pain from the stent in my ureter. It’s making me nauseous. No one thought to ask me about the stent when I complained of the back pain in the hospital. But I digress.
There is an obituary in the New York Times today about a highly accomplished man with wide interests who died this week at the age of 58 due to colon cancer.
I must not think that way.
I have to recuperate and then start chemo. Then I’ll know where I am at or am likely to be.