Musings from a hospital stay.

So, as I write this I lay in a hospital bed, I haven't slept in something like 2 days, I've been eating hospital food, and oh...did I mention, I'm missing a tiny little organ otherwise known as the appendix?

It was cut out last night, when I went into the hospital in pain. Too much pain to even sleep. I'd woken up to what I thought would just be a simple enough stomach ache, I thought I'd be able to sleep it off. But rather, I tossed and turned in my bed from 2 pm until 1 am, when I finally decided I'd had enough and I needed to go to the hospital.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I've always feared that one of these days I'd end up with appendicitis, and boy, was I right.

A "pee-in-the-cup", blood test and CAT scan later, I was carted off to surgery. They knocked me clean out, nice and neat, cut out the offending organ (which I've heard was pretty bad-looking, apparently going rotten inside my body. Blech.) and then woke me up and sent me off to recover.

And, I've had a very localized, very uncomfortable pain just over my right hip ever since. The downside, this makes it hard to laugh much, makes it hard to get up to do anything, and without an ice pack and lots of percoset, it hurts even if I lay still.

On the plus side, most of Friday I wasn't alone, I had many visitors. Turns out my massive text-sending was quite a thing for a lot of my friends to wake up to. Scared some, surprised others. Even caused two of said friends to leave work and drive all the way up from Whidbey Island to come and see me, much, much earlier than they were supposed to head up this way. People brought flowers, cookies, green tea...^^; and hugs. And lots of company.

And now, as I type this, I'm alone. Waiting for it to be visiting hours again, waiting to see who shows up to visit today. Waiting to see when I get to go home, if I get to go home today. The IV has been stopped, antibiotics and such no longer annoying the hell out of my arm, but the needle's still there. Just in case, they said.

Mmmhm. And there's a nice fat ice pack over my hip where the incision was. I don't get to see it yet - there's still a bandage. I'm kinda glad, if it looks as bad as it hurts I might just go batshit crazy moreso than I already am being cooped up here not able to sleep and lonely as all hell.

Fortunately, all the staff here are really nice. And really helpful. And before they moved me upstairs, the people taking care of me on the lower floor in east wing were sad because they said "Our favorite patient's being moved!" Awwhs. I feel special. ^^;

Its been years since I've ever been in the hospital, but man does it still feel creepy and scary as it did when I was seven. And back then, I didn't have to have surgery, just a whole lot of tubes stuck down my throat and needles poked in my arms.

Oh, and male nurses still creep me the fuck out.

It just doesn't stop

Tuesday afternoon I was informed that my great-grandmother was in the hopsital after having fallen down on Friday.

She fell down Friday, and wasn't found until my mom went to visit on Tuesday.

That's FIVE DAYS that she lay on the ground, helpless and unable to call for anyone.

I'm more than just upset, I'm angry because that should not have happened. It could have been prevented.

I almost feel like we should have gotten her one of those life monitor button things before, when she moved out on her own years ago. But we're getting her one now.

It's just that, there are days when I worry that it won't be too neccessary after so long. I'm always afraid that that call from grandpa's going to be the call telling us she's gone or she's about to go and I'll have to rush my ass to the hospital to say goodbye.

You see, the last 5 people I lost in my family, I never got to say goodbye to. Actually, I never got to say goodbye to anyone I ever knew who died. But great-grandma helped raise me, and my mom, and she's more of a grandma to me that my real grandma, my mom's mom, is. She was more of a mother to my mom than her real mom was.

And, just like my dad's grandma, she's just about the only thing still keeping all the family together. If she goes, the family'll fall apart. My dad's side wasn't quite like that. When we lost great-grandma, the family just pulled closer. My mom's family isn't that way.

I don't know if I could bear to see my family continue to fall apart like this. If I had my way, we'd see each other more than just once a year. If I had my way, my mom's cousin wouldn't have ran off with my great-grandpa's guns, and he wouldn't have ran off without a trace. We haven't heard from him in almost 10 years.

If you can't tell, family means more to me than anything, and losing it means losing a part of myself. I'm just afraid, that now I'm getting older, so are they, and there won't be anything I can do. I know someday I'm going to lose my parents, and I'm just so afraid that the faster the rest of the family goes, the faster that day will come.

Death has never scared me, but the thought of living without someone always has. I still cry about my great-grandpa sometimes, and even my aunt Joanie who I never really knew.

It was just a matter of being too young to understand when they died, and now that I'm older, I understand all too well. There's nothing left but memories and possessions, and even those are becoming fewer and fewer...

In other news...

Kittens are adorable, probably one of the most adorable things on this planet.

The only problem? They're ANNOYING AS FUCK. Especially if you're me, and you can't stand whining no matter what it comes from - human, animal, machine, anything. (Unless it's the whine of a supercharged engine...mmm...)

Well, I got a kitten on Saturday, and yes, he is cute as a button. But there is no way in HELL you'll ever hear me say "oh, he's perfect, never makes a peep at night" because he does not shut up when we put him up at night and try to go to bed.

This makes me remember the Border Collie we had last summer, who would bark and whine and howl at night, and do you know what we did with him? We gave him away at the end of the summer because I couldn't take it anymore.

I'm kind of feeling guilty at this point, because I don't want to take care of this little ball of fluff. He annoys me too much. The only thing that gives me comfort is the fact that, just like my last cat, he'll eventually grow up and stop being so annoying. The downside to that is he'll also stop being so cute, but I think I can handle it. My oldest cat, our fat calico, is still cute sometimes.

She also talks. A lot. Not quite like this little guy, though. She only gets mouthy when she wants food. I really really really hope this kitty doesn't turn out like that.

And, I've finally settled on a name. I think I've decided to name him Gizmo. I almost named him Inspector Gadget, but my parents would probably throat me...