So I was moved from Room 6 to Room 9, when I got back from ICU. It had only 4 beds in and only one other occupant, who was fast asleep. As the hour wore on, she started waking up, but was very groggy, from whatever medication she had taken. Later, when she was feeling a little better, she explained that she had taken her medications late and in the wrong order, which had a negative effect on her system. Sometime after that, as well, another patient was admitted who was a little dehydrated.

I was put on a mixed liquid diet. Basically, stuff like ice cream and jelly, porridge and whatever else. So after supper, I was given my meds, which included a sleeping pill. Afterwards, the three of us (patients) were discussing stuff like the Da Vinci Code and implications it had on the bible and whatever else. I had trouble concentrating on the conversation and could feel myself wanting to sway and fall over. On Wednesday, I had trouble waking up. That night, I only had half a pill.

Marc had brought my wheelchair in on Tuesday, so that I could be mobile after they took the catheter out. I started moving around from about lunch time and quickly figured out ways to get things done which did not hurt too much. I rarely needed painkillers.

My BP started going up, though and I quickly realized that it was time to get out of there. I said to Marc that if they wanted me to stay longer, he had to bring the dogs the next day to see me. I really missed them. During the visiting hour that evening, Marc and I left the ward and found a quiet place in the garden to sit while he ate supper. Sitting outside, listening to the birds helped me relax and my BP was back to normal that evening.

Thursday was discharge day. I had been feeling great the whole week and everyone was pleased with the way I had bounced back. I only left mid-afternoon, though, because the doctor wanted Marc to see how to administer my injections. While we were waiting, the two previous patients were discharged and someone new was admitted. For some strange reason, we connected immediately and we had a good laugh at a few jokes. One I remember was I pointed out that the hospital was divided into sections, wards and beds, not wards, rooms and beds like normal, which made me think of sections of a jail and we were inmates.

The trip home was tiring and I was aware of every bump in the road, though it did not hurt too badly. When we got in, the dogs were obviously pleased to see me, so I kept my teddy bear in my lap so they could not jump up and hurt me. Especially TJ, who loves to sit with me in my chair. I stayed in my chair for an hour, watching something on PVR, which gave the dogs time to calm down. After that, I went to bed.

Besides one stupid move on Pumba’s part, where he put a paw in my hip while jumping over me, the dogs knew almost immediately that something was different about me and they needed to be careful. Lying in bed for over a week gave me plenty of time to bond with them and I’m certain the bond between TJ and myself has become stronger. Yesterday, TJ came looking to me for attention, jumping against my wheelchair until I moved and allowed him to jump up and get comfortable on the pillow behind me. He has never done this before. He also seems to be more obedient and willing to listen, though I’m sure that age is playing a part there as well.

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