I was up again at 7am. This time I was starving. I was so hungry that my head hurt. I buzzed for the nurse.
The morning nurse came in and asked how I was feeling. I told her that I was hungry and that I really, really needed coffee. I was told that I was being upgraded to a 'soft food' diet- I honestly wasn't sure what that meant. Are there hard foods for breakfast? She said she would just let the cafeteria know and they would send up a tray. She was sympathetic about the coffee and had some sent right away. Which was awesome.
When she left a physician's assistant came in. She was the PA for my surgeon. She was there to make sure I was in good shape. Which I was. She took me off my IV and covered up my incision with a large bandage. If it fell off it was ok, but otherwise I had to keep it on until my visit with the surgeon the following week. She also took my drain out which, seriously, may have been the worst part. It's incredibly uncomfortable and sort of painful too. But, hey, much better than taking it home. Then the PA left the room.
While I waited for breakfast I put the tv on. Weekday morning tv is so fucking dismal. I settled on reruns of Supernanny, a show I had never watched when it was on in prime time. I was sympathetic to a couple of the stories- even if I didn't completely agree with some of the decisions. But the one that killed me was this family where the parents were deaf but all three of their daughters could hear. I think they ranged in age from like four to seven years old. The mother had an eighteen year old daughter from a previous relationship. The young daughters wouldn't listen to their parents, only to the older girl. The older girl felt like she was missing out on being a teenager and fought with her step-dad all the time. The young daughters were so terrible and disrespectful. It was awful to watch. I was actually glad for them that Supernanny was there to save the day.
Breakfast showed up and it was oatmeal, eggs, and toast. I ate just about everything. I totally surprised myself. After eating I got up and got dressed. I couldn't wait for the husband to get there and take me home.
When he showed up he was amazed to see that I was up, had eaten, and was dressed and waiting. He told me to call my mother because she was convinced I was going to be in such awful shape. I gave her a quick call- she was happy to know that I felt so well- and then I hung up and we waited. And waited.
The same thing happened when I had my kids. Hospitals seem reluctant to let you go. It always takes forever to get released. Like waiting for the check at certain restaurants. You wonder why they want to keep you around when you'd think they would want to turn the table over to someone else. Finally after much waiting around I was released. And then I went home one thyroid and several lymph nodes lighter than when I had walked in.