All the gory details, part 2

Thursday, September 29th, I awoke feeling significantly better. I wasn’t ready to run a marathon, but I no longer felt I needed to be fitted for a casket. I actually felt well enough to be concerned about my appearance, so I ran a comb through my hair. I discovered that my long spell of unconsciousness was not due entirely to my black-out. I had done significant damage to my scull when that part of me made contact with the tile floor. I had an abrasion at the hair line, two large bumps under my hair, and a black eye. When the doctor came in that morning, I reported my discovery to her. Back down for a brain scan to make certain I wasn’t bleeding into my cranium while they were feeding me blood thinners. Bear in mind that everywhere I went in the hospital I went with an IV connected, oxygen, and a heart monitor. I was able to walk, with assistance, from my bed in the hospital room to the gurney in the hallway but I had all this hardware I was carrying along. The CT scan discovered that my hard head had protected my marginal brain, and I was no more scrambled that usual.

My day was brightened by a phone call from my daughter and a visit by a deacon from St. Mary’s in Walnut Creek who brought me Eucharist and prayed with me. My daughter’s call enhanced my emotional well-being. The Eucharist enhanced my spiritual well-being. Lest any of my friends who phoned and visited think I have forgotten their contribution to my well-being, I know they did bring me joy and healing, I just don’t remember on which day. My brain was and is still scrambled.

Friday, September 30th, I awoke feeling even better than the day before. I was improving by leaps and bounds (I don’t want any of my writer friends criticizing my use of clichés). It still took large amounts of concentration to remember what day of the week it was when the nurses asked; thank God they didn’t want to know the date as well. I continued to have a half dozen blood draws a day. I have more bruises (from needles) than the survivor of a multi-car accident. Children turn away from me in horror thinking I must be a monster of some sort.

When I saw the doctor in the late morning she told me she was thinking of discharging me late that afternoon and sending me home. I told her I was not ready to go home that afternoon, but would like to be discharged the following morning. She agreed, so I got one last night of being waited upon.