What can I say about Day Five? I mean, at this point, I'm getting repetitive, right? Woke up, ate, got meds, incompetence of hospital staff, blah blah blah. Rode the elevators some more. Went to the PT room and used their treadmill again.
Oh, that was a funny story. I think I was finally caught in a lie. Well, not a "lie" per se, so much as a non-truth. Some years ago my doctor insisted that I either get a treadmill or join a gym. It was cheaper to buy the treadmill. Over the years I used it less and less. And less. But every time I go to clinic they ask, "are you still exercising?" and I always answer "yes!" I do exercise, occasionally, but not in the traditional sense of the word. I feel that housework and dog walking and chasing around after my child constitutes exercise. But the test today didn't agree with me on that one.
As I get onto the treadmill a clip is placed on my finger to monitor my O2 saturation and my heart rate. My O2 sat was 98% and I don't remember what my heart rate was, but it was great. We turned the machine on, set it for 2mph to start, at about 5 minutes into my 20, my O2 sat had dropped to 93% and my heart rate was 136. YIKES. The other big test of endurance is to see if you can talk while exercising. Once upon a time, I used to do upper body strength training stuff while on the treadmill. And I'm famous for singing the whole time I'm walking. I could BARELY get through a string of sentences without gasping.
Proof is in the pudding, or so they say. It was obvious that I was not physically capable of that type of exercise. That is something that will absolutely have to change once I get home, I guess.
Did you know that "classic cheesecake" isn't that classic? It was covered in some sort of strawberry sauce that reminded me more of strawberry syrup from IHOP. (mmmmm...I'd kill for IHOP right now). And the cheesecake wasn't classic. In fact, it was barely edible. But I ate it anyway. Desperate times, my friends, desperate times.
Today's blog isn't as humorous as I would have liked. It was a blah kind of day. Every now and then in a person's life the pity party kicks into full swing. And it wasn't just me; it was the other 2/3 of my bubble as well. We've just reached a point where it's time to face some pretty harsh realities.
Garrett was feeling a little homesick for me and we were both struggling with the weight of financial issues. I told him being with me is like being with a superhero. I revealed my true identity to you, and you chose this, you chose this life, this adventure. If you can't hack the batcave, Katie Holmes, get the frack out. That made him laugh and say, "that's why she wasn't in the second film." We both laughed. The best part of it all is that he CAN handle the batcave. And we're in this together, and neither of us would have it any other way. Well....healthier and wealthier wouldn't hurt.
I miss Garrett. He's the Dante to my Randall. And I miss Rylie. I've told her time and again, I can't breathe when she's not around. The three of us are so codependent for one another it must be nauseating to the outside world!
Lots of Docs came by today. This place was like Grand Central Station. They decided to move my PFT up to Tuesday instead of Wednesday. Based on the results, they will begin discussing a course of action in regards to the IV meds. Usually they run a 14 day course. But I am wheeling and dealing with various case workers and staff to see if there is any way that I can finish it up at home as an outpatient someplace, rather than staying here another 10 days or so.
Then again, if I can manage to stay in past the 14 day mark, I might be able to eliminate two of my credit card debts. That annual protection plan thingy I got suckered into paying $90 for each year supposedly takes care of your balance if you are hospitalized continuously for 14 days or more. But is that worth me losing my sanity in here?
Like I said, I've got a lot of options and a lot of wheeling and dealing to do tomorrow. I've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.
Geez! I'm bored enough to quote Kenny Rogers.
Oh, and I didn't get to stare up today. It rained. Bah. May take Kay up on her advice to approach a doctor in the lobby frantically and yell at him for not answering any of his pages. That could get interesting.
I've checked 5 on-call rooms, by the way, and none of them have hot doctors having crazy sex. The television lies. All these years, the black box has been messing with my mind.
Life's a funny thing, isn't it? We spend most of our time worrying or complaining about things, and hurrying through it all. But where are we rushing to? What's the end game? Bitch and moan, and then pray it never ends.
* shudders *
Whew! I think it's time for some chocolate cake and some Monday night shows. Far be it from me to get all philosophical on an empty stomach.
Oh, and staring at the cashier through the glass of the little shop like she's in a fish bowl is very unnerving to her.
Please let my PFT have improved when I repeat the test. And please let the powerball ticket I've been carrying around since Wednesday yield something. I'm stir crazy enough to start a "bucket list" and I'd much rather just go home and get back to nagging everyone.
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