These are the things I remember.

1. I was asked to pee into a hat and was told to not empty the hat. I filled the hat in the middle of the night, so I called my nurse in.

Me: My pee hat is full.
Nurse: Okay. I’ll empty it.

Less than an hour later, I walked into the bathroom and found that my pee hat was still full. I dumped out the hat and put it on the floor because I was TIRED of dealing with a hat full of pee! I then used the toilet and NOT the hat and INDEPENDENCE! When I told the nurse that I dumped the hat out, she seemed a little angry. (I’m still feeling slightly guilty about the whole pee hat thing. It occurred to me afterwards that pee in a hospital is like a diamond in a jewelry store. Things like clarity and color need to be documented so the pee’s worth can be estimated.) So much talk about pee. Let’s move on to blood.

2. I woke up and blood was soaking through my dressings and through my gown. I called the nurse in, and she asked if I wanted to change my gown. I told her that I did, but that changing the dressings seemed more important, because they looked a lot worse than the gown. She then taught me how to change my own dressings, and I felt like we were at a slumber party doing each other’s hair, except I was dealing with tape and gauze and nobody walked away with a sloppy braid. The next morning when the surgeon visited, he asked, “Why is there gauze on the incision sites?” He didn’t seem happy, so I said, “I might have done that.” He said, “I asked your nurse to remove the dressings.” That’s when I may have said something like, “My bad.” (I typically don’t talk like that. Morphine.)

3. I woke up and heard my kids talking about dinner and I remember feeling stressed out that they would want me to prepare something for them, because there I was in a hospital bed zonked out on morphine and anesthesia and my only supplies were saltines and an emesis basin.

4. I sent Jeff to the store to buy an enema. I don’t need an enema, but it’s sitting right here by me as I type this message to you. Like a tiki idol.

I’m still hazy, which I hear is the anesthesia wearing off. Apparently, it can take WEEKS, which is why I’m taking milk thistle pills and drinking detox tea. (I hate the fog.) Also, I’m just painy enough to require Percocet again, and that bums me out because Percocet makes me fall asleep at weird times. Other than that? All is well. (Except for a touchy subject that involves kids and texting and I would really like your opinion regarding what sort of texting parameters you would place on an 11-year-old girl. I have an 11-year-old girl. She’s a gem. However, we need to set up some rules.)

The UPS man just delivered a box from Zappos. It’s addressed to Jeff, so I can’t open it. (It’s against the law to tamper with someone else’s mail. I once found out that one of my bosses in Nashville had thrown away some of my mail. When I jokingly reminded him (electronically) that what he did was a crime that is punishable by incarceration, he responded to my e-mail with a simple question: ARE YOU THREATENING ME? (I did not respond. He has since passed on.))

It looks like my surgeon implanted a chicken foot into one of my incisions. I would try to remove it, but it might be his surgical signature, and you should never scratch “Monet” from a wall of water lilies.

(Edited to add: And you should never credit Van Gogh for water lily walls. Thanks to Blackbird for the gentle correction.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

19 thoughts on “These are the things I remember.”

  1. forget the enema. double up on see kit and you will be fine. remember, I’m an expert, I broke a rib.

  2. The haze and the “fog” will get better and in the end, it will all be worth it. And, BTW, Percocet and enemas are part of my everyday life. :\ I’m trying not to get used to it. I would like it to end.

    When my kiddo was 11 yrs. old, he asked for a phone. This was 6 or 7 years ago and we told him that he doesn’t need one. I know that times have already changed since then. Kids no longer talk on a phone that is attached to the wall, either. I would strictly limit the usage and make a deal that you get to see every text that is being sent and received. What do I know, though? Our kiddo still does not have a smart phone. He can only text and make calls. Yeah, that’s how we roll.

  3. Today’s your birthday. May the Zappos box NOT be new hiking boots for Jeff!

    Other than that, I can’t think of a single relevant thing to say about this post.

    Blood? Pee? Enemas? Emesis basins? Gah! Heal-fast, Angie. Let’s be done with all this!!

  4. So glad you’re doing well enough to be feisty about a pee hat. I am sorry you’re in pain and a fog. Sounds dreadful. Hope the box is full of adorably comfortable shoes for you!

  5. I wish that I could describe your writings to someone but I am sure I would be very much remiss in anything I could say.

  6. Your fog can’t be too bad if you can come up with sparkling similes like pee and diamonds.
    I’d just like you to know that I walked right to the other end of our long, thin house to get my glasses-cleaning cloth so I could enjoy your post unsmeared.
    Texting, schmexting. I have one daughter travelling through South America on her own and another about to cycle solo through France. Don’t talk to me about maternal anxiety.

  7. happy no more irritating inside parts! that’s excellent.
    I have no advice re: texting. My child is only 4 months old and I’m already feeling very EEEEEEEE about technology and boundaries. VERY.

  8. I need to Google “emesis.” Also, “milk thistle.”

    Also also? The image of the nurse possibly walking away with a sloppy braid was a (bloody, gauzy, pus-filled) image I cannot easily erase from my brain teevee.

  9. ooooo- the texting thing. My rules usually start with: be prepared for me to read any single text at any given time. So if you don’t want me to read it, then maybe you shouldn’t be saying it. And rule number two: You can only text during media times. Texting counts as media.

    Yeah, they call me the Marine Corps Mom. I’m cool with it. :-)

  10. I fucking hate those pee hats. There are pages of documents all over Texas about how much I’ve peed in hospitals. I don’t entirely think anyone benefits from that.

    If a nurse gets pissy with you again for not doing her job just tell her to stick it up her pee hat.

    Sending love.

  11. What’s fun is to let your husband pee in the pee hat. If he’s willing. Also, anyone who visits you in the hospital when you specifically told them not to should be REQUIRED to pee in the pee hat as penance.

  12. You may not text during meal times, or when someone — especially a parent — is talking to you. Violating these rules will result in confiscation of your phone for an amount of time to be determined by your father and me.

    ALSO. You may not password protect anything as long as I am paying for the device or internet that provides you with access. If you must password protect something (email, social media, etc.), you have to give me the password, and understand that you are subject to random checks. When you pay for your own internet and electronics, then you are entitled to keep your passwords private.

    (We set up that last rule after a cyber-bullying incident in 6th grade. I don’t poke into the kids email or social media accounts, but if there’s a problem, I need to be able to step in.)

  13. Once again – parallel. Our 12 year old (finishing 6th) does not currently have a phone that texts, nor is she on Instragram. She advises that she is one of only three children at her school who do not have access to one or both of these technologies. Although I cannot verify the statistics, I think that’s probably close to accurate. We are looking into whether we will let her get a smarter phone – and if so, what we will ask her to contribute of her babysitting money/allowance to cover those costs. Her father and I have somewhat different views about texting versus Instagram. We also have somewhat different views about using a texting program that uses wireless, rather than having a data plan. (I say that prevents running up costly texting bills, he thinks learning to be responsible about limitations is a good lesson).
    We have DEFINITELY told her that we will have access to all accounts, and while we will not likely actively monitor, we reserve the right to step in if she or another child are being hurt (literally or figuratively). I’d like to think she’d not be on the sending end of that – but if I ever heard she was – BAM! Also – I think it is 100% possible that she could be receiving mean texts about someone else from a friend.
    So – no wisdom to offer at this point – but I am anxiously monitoring the comments to see what I can learn.
    Oh – one more thing – a colleague (and I have heard of others) requires that phones be plugged in nightly at a central location, to prevent late night texting shenanigans. Don’t know yet if we’ll do that – but I’m strongly considering it.

  14. Hospitals get all anal (see what I did here?) about fluid input and output. Also O2 sats. It’s all for a good cause but totally annoying at the time.

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