Day Four at MUSC 10/09

I debated not writing anything for Day Four. Day Four fell on a Sunday, and as Dursley once said to Harry, "There's no post on Sundays."

But it wouldn't be me if I wasn't rambling on incessantly about something...

Woke up later than usual, 7:10 AM to be exact. It was foggy outside, so no sunlight to assist in my waking. I was surprised that the nurses hadn't been in yet. Granted, there is a sign on the door telling them not to come in until after 7:00, but that hasn't stopped anyone yet. In fact, I rather liked it when they would hook up my IV bag at 6:30, as it runs for an hour. So I would eat breakfast while it was attached, when it was done I'd shower, then make my run for tea and be back before respiratory therapy.

I open the door to look for a nurse. I find one. I ask her to unhook me from the pole (I was still attached from my 2AM bag, but with only saline running at this point) so that I could shower quickly before being tied down for an hour. She told me no. I pushed the issue. She told me that if they did that, it would mess up my blood levels for the tobramycin since it has to go in exactly every so many hours. Seriously? If that were the case, then I should be all sorts of messed up, seeing as how the previous nurses were hanging the bag by 6:30.

I pleaded for a compromise. Disconnect me long enough for what my mother calls a "bird bath" and what Garrett and Robin call a "whore bath". Done! I was allowed the length of a Nascar pit stop to coat myself in baby powder and put on clean clothes before being hooked to the bag. Face washing, hair combing, and the like would have to wait until after the meds started. Bah.

After breakfast I debate if I have enough time to get tea. I take my chances. Not only did I have enough time for tea, but another episode of Doctor Who. My morning RT didn't show until nearly time for my lunch tray to arrive (in fact it did arrive as she was leaving) and to top it off, one of my meds was missing. This was a problem again later in the day when the RT was supposed to return between 2-3PM and didn't show until 4:30...as the dinner tray was arriving. Took the med, skipped the therapy, sent her away.

Boredom finally reached new heights. Literally. Ended up on the 10th floor "Charleston Room" which seems to be a secret room. Not quite the Room of Requirement, as food, drinks, and phones are not allowed. But it's clean, has leather seating, and windows on both sides so you get a great view of the city and the bridge.

Decided upon new tactic today. Abandoned the jim jam bottoms for some denim capris. Dressed like the natives. Wandered around for almost an hour like the civilians do. Hid my id bracelet beneath the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Notice I didn't say hoodie. It's a sweatshirt. Or even zip up jacket. When I was in high school, as Sharon, Michele, and Jenn will recall, it was my wubby.

I rode the elevators up and down, talking to the security camera. I wonder if someone is actually watching live, or if it merely records. Either way, as I stared at the ceiling and asked it where the escape hatch was, no one answered. I even pondered out loud, how I would reach said hatch should the elevator malfunction. I have no other person to step on. I might be able to get a foot onto the handrail, but then what? Still, no one answered.

I looked people in the eyes as we walked towards one another, never breaking my gaze, initiating a staring contest that they weren't aware they were involved in. I won, well, most of the time.

I would take it a step further by talking to them...loudly. "HI" "HOW ARE YOU TODAY" "BEAUTIFUL DAY, ISN'T IT"

It's amazing how this simple act of kindness unnerves most people. They avoided me like New Yorkers avoid each other on the city streets.

I went to the shop--I like a little shop. It was me and the cashier. No background noises. No muzak playing. Just me....and her. Dead silence. She watched me intently, waiting to see what I would buy, and making sure I wasn't stealing.

As I had no intention of purchasing anything, I made sure to stop and touch at least one item on every shelf.

EVERY SHELF.

I spun racks, I flipped through magazines. I smelled candles. I hugged stuffed animals. I made her very, very, very uncomfortable. This went on for what was probably the longest 8 minutes of her life until finally some man came in to buy a candy bar or newspaper or something. I took my leave then. Slowly, suspiciously. Then just as I passed through the doorway I turned back to the cashier and her customer..."THANK YOU! HAVE A GREAT AFTERNOON, OKAY"

Someone is going to have me committed, I swear.

I think tomorrow I may gown up, hang a mask around my neck, and head down to the cafeteria. If I continue to talk to people like I know them could I pass for hospital staff? Maybe I'll go up to someone and strike up a conversation as though I already know them, try to see if I can get them to feign politeness by pretending they remember me.

I'm definitely going to stand on the sidewalk and stare up.

That'll do pig.