Next week I get the “girls” replaced from last April’s bi-lateral mastectomy. In preparation for surgery, the hospital called a few days ago to make an appointment to do an over-the-phone interview (so they called to make an appointment to call). Then they called the day before to remind me that they were going to call me.
The phone interview consisted of the expected things, such as what prescription and over-the-counter medications I was currently taking and did I have someone to care for me post-surgery. I was asked if I used illegal street drugs. It occurred to me that since marijuana is now legal in the state, they may need to rephrase that question to include legal street drugs.
I was quite surprised when informed that during my hospital stay, it would be my responsibility to watch the door of my room and make sure everyone entering and leaving uses the anti-bacterial hand sanitizer. I was planning on zoning out with the maximum allowed pain killers in my system for the duration of my visit. What a buzz kill.
The next question addressed if I had a ride home from the hospital. I answered that yes, DH or daughter would be driving me home. This opened up a whole new can of gooey worms. “Are you going to go STRAIGHT home?” Honestly, I was looking forward to coming straight home, putting on pajamas, wrapping myself in my favorite quilt and playing the latest version of Angry Birds while DH and Janet took care of me. Naturally, I answered “Yes.” She then asked “Are you SURE you are going to come straight home?” At this point, I am totally perplexed. It’s going to be 24 hours after surgery, drains will be hanging off me like cheap Christmas ornaments. I doubt my make-up and hair will be done when I leave the hospital. Where else would I go? I said, “Where on earth do you think I’m going – out to eat lunch?” She said “Well, we want to make sure you don’t go Christmas shopping, the ride home should be enough for one day.”
I finally was able to satisfy her that I would not be making any detours on the way home. However, my brain got to working. The bridge club is just a few blocks from the hospital. If I can be discharged by 10 am, I could make Wednesday’s game. After all, it is my second home.
Today is a good day!