I’m out of the hospital and home. This morning I woke up in my usual achy pool of sweat and ordered some breakfast from the menu; Jen and I got Skype set up because FaceTime just wasn’t working, and I watched Finn open her gifts. Thanks go once again to Aunt Renie, who went above and beyond with her efforts. During the telecast, I had to run for a morning constitutional, which was the best present I could have unwrapped.
After we jumped off to get the day started, I took the first full shower I’d had since the Sunday before the surgery. And that shit felt good. It was a long hot Hollywood shower, and I scrubbed every part of my yuck body three times at least. Then I got out in two new gowns and did 10 laps around the ward. Things were definitely quieter on the floor, and it turned out they’d discharged a bunch of people right before and during the holiday. I told my nurses about my, uh, present, and they began making calls in the background.
The ladies showed up around noon and we sat quietly, reading more of The Order of the Phoenix and waiting for my lunch to arrive. I must have been really hungry on Saturday evening, because the same meal for lunch this afternoon didn’t taste nearly as well as it did the first time. Around three o’clock we got excellent news from my nurse, who told me they’d released me. It took about two hours of paperwork and some prescription pick-ups before we were able to go, but I walked myself into that hospital and I walked myself back out a week later.
I’m laying in my own bed, in my own PJs, under my own sheets. Nobody is barging in here in two hours to take my vitals, prick my finger for blood sugar, or give me a pill. The bed is flat and firm. The pillow is thick and firm. If I don’t get a decent night’s sleep tonight, there’s definitely something wrong with me.