When people are away from home, the most common thing they might say is that they’re tired of living out of suitcases. I’ve been living out of a duffel bag for two years because I don’t have anywhere to keep my clothes. Manchild uses my dresser for his computer related crap (it’s basically like a giant office organizer), and his excessive amount of clothing takes up the rest of the available clothes space. This is to say, I don’t mind living out of a bag or a pile of clothes on top of a bag, unless I trip over the fucking thing.
What I miss is being able to get coffee without wearing pants. It’s the simple things that are the most satisfying.
Another thing I miss is being alone. Not having to socialize or feel like an asshole for ignoring someone.
The way surgery works here, is that you’re in a class with people who have family members who are having surgery on the same day. They tell us what to expect when visiting our people in the ICU and lay down the law pertaining to visitation. Lots of rules, some of which I’ve broken simply because I was feeling extremely ill on surgery day and zoned out through most of it until the nurse stopped her spiel to make sure I wasn’t about to pass out. Damn it, woman. I was open eye sleeping! Leave me alone.
All of the families are stressed out and talking to people in similar situations seems to calm them down. My Mom has spent as much time in the ICU waiting room talking to these people as I have back with MC. I’m a placeholder. While I’m back with him, he can nap. When I leave, Harpy takes my place and annoys the piss out of him.
On the off chance that I’m sitting in the waiting room, people automatically assume that I’m as friendly as my Mom. Impossible. In fact, I’m her opposite. It bugs me when strangers try to exchange more than three sentences with me. It’s a wonder I have any friends.
His surgery went as planned, and he’s doing okay. He looks worse today than he did yesterday because the pain has really set in. He doesn’t want to move at all because moving hurts and his lack of movement is making his pain worse. He was supposed to be moved out of ICU today but there were no beds available, so there he stays. Maybe tomorrow. I think he’s dreading the move because they intend to remove the foley cath which means they’ll encourage him to use the bathroom. Getting in and out of bed makes him turn three shades whiter than me, followed by profuse sweating. I knew he was going to be in pain, but I don’t think he realized how bad it would be. I was trying to get him prepared by moving him to a better environment to recover in BEFORE surgery, but he wouldn’t have it. “I’ll be fine.” Ya think so?
Nope. He’s not fine. Depending on how he’s doing at discharge, I think he’ll need rehab. I can see him laying in bed hugging a pillow for six weeks unless he has someone else to hold him accountable. Family doesn’t count. We’re just background noise.