The Day After: In the Hospital

I woke up the final time around 6:00 am. Felt good. Peed again. Chatted with my roommate. We discussed the virtues of hospital mattresses and such.

By 7:30, a heavy-set orderly named Helga (ok, that wasn’t her name, but it fits the story) came in offering sponge baths. My roommate and I declined her assistance. As I got my leg into place to pee again and began my washing up, in comes Dr. Slagle. We decide we would both feel better if I got dressed, and he checked out the status of my knee.

Things looked good. I hardly had any blood on the dressing. He informed me of Physical Therapy at 9:30, and then I could go home. You could almost hear the angels singing (or maybe that was the night nurses, happy they could get off urinal duty).

His instructions were freeing. I could shower. I could put weight on the knee as the pain would permit. He would see me in one week at the office.

I forgot to ask him to get me off of the IV (a.k.a. the pee producer). I had basically cut out the morphine (wanted to see if I could survive). Did not feel any real problems since doing this.

Physical Therapy (PT) was fine. Other then the narcotic they convinced me to take (a new long lasting one), oxycotin, making me total foggy for the PT time, I was out the door.

Getting checked out took too long, but waiting out of bed, sitting up right was better then lying in bed having to pee.

CONTINUE...