Thursday, February 02, 2012

Today, the test of when/if I could go home was whether or not I was capable of walking to the restroom and peeing.

A couple of hours after the surgery (and after partaking of my new best friend, Norco), I decided I was up to the task.

An adorable nurse named Joy with glasses much cuter than mine supervised my journey (and carried my IV bag) - when I pressed the call button, she scurried in and asked if I'd gone.

"Like a boss!" I said proudly.

Additionally, at some point this morning, I told a nurse who was learning how to do IVs so she was observing in the pre-surgery room while some ham-fisted dolt dug around in my arm with a needle the size of a breadstick that she should look me up on facebook and I would lend her some derby equipment if she wanted to try out the sport. And later, she was the first person I saw when I woke up and she told me first, that I'd done well (not like I had to do much but lay there) and second, that she'd successfully done her first IV. I offered her a fist bump and wish I knew her name - Maureen? Monica? Marleen? I don't know.

This is the teletubbie/rabbit bruise that was a result of five minutes of unsuccessful digging around for a vein by the nurse who was NOT the trainee.


1 comment(s):

Post a Comment

<< Home