My own private circle of hell

Now that we're home from the hospital, and I've caught up on all my personal email and have had a full night's sleep, I can properly relay the hell that was the last night at the hospital. But first, I'll need to set the scene.

Deidre was in "room" 508, which was really the bed without the window in the room that was split into 508/509. 509 was a decently sized "room". It had room for the bed, a side-table, the recliner/cot combo, a rocking chair and space by the bed to accommodate the IV stand. 508 however, barely had room for the bed and recliner/cot combo. The side-table was crammed behind the recliner/cot with no access to the drawers, and the IV stand was jammed between them and the bed, always in the way.

Both beds had two light fixtures available to them. A wall unit behind the bed and up high for indirect lighting and a ceiling unit for lighting up the whole room. I never did find the switch for our ceiling unit, but I did figure out the pull string for the wall unit.

The girl in 509 was afflicted with some abdominal malaise that manifested itself with a distended stomach and severe intestinal distress. Now, I don't want people to think that I was insensitive to what the little girl in 509 was going though. She was clearly suffering and I wouldn't wish that on any child. But the series of events that played out that night made me question the wisdom of the hospital putting anyone else in the room with her.

Across the hall in 510 was a child of unknown (to us) sex and age, but the rumour mill told us that the child was mentally disturbed and quite strong. During the day, the was little noise from the room, but the 24/7 rotating guard outside the door was fairly conspicuous. These guys could have been bouncers. There were a few incidents during the day of agitated yelling from within, but amid the daily hustle of the ward, I barely noticed them.

The last night of Deidre's stay started out much like the previous night. Deidre was watching TV while I read a book. Around 8:30, clearly worn out by her visitors (this is a good thing), Deidre turned off the TV and went to sleep. I continued to read for about 45 more minutes and then turned off the lights and rolled on to my side and closed my eyes.

Maybe 15 minutes later, 509 also turns out their lights and all is quiet.

For maybe 10 minutes.

The little girl starts to moan and cry aloud. I hear some rustling and the overhead light in 509 flashes to life. Blinking against this sudden assault to my eyes, I bury my face in the pillow to block it out. The little girl's cries get louder and suddenly there is the sound of explosive diarrhea filling a bed pan. Sustained, gassy diarrhea. And a stench. Wow, what a stench.

As I struggle not to cough and gag, the diarrhea runs it course and the grandmother takes the bedpan to the bathroom on the other side of the wall from me. After a brief muffled washing out of the bedpan, the industrial-strength toilet roars out as she flushes the mess away.

Using the toilet is completely understandable; you don't want to leave it in the bowl all night polluting the air. But the hysterical screaming fit that this instigates from the child in 510 is monumental.

A sustained "WAAAH, WAAAH, WAAAH, WAAAH" fills the hallways for about 10 minutes. This kid had some breath control. His screaming didn't waver or weaken the entire time. I was wide-awake and beginning to get a headache. Deidre, of course, slept through the whole thing.

Now, of course, this incident in and of itself would be worthy of a post, but alas, this wasn't all that I was to be subjected to that night. With little deviation from the original script, this little drama repeated itself through the night with about 45 minutes between performances.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

I slept quite well last night in my own bed.

Flintstone vitamins

My immediate family might recognize the significance of my buying Flintstone vitamins. The pharmacist and I decided that this would be good substitute for the iron supplement prescribed by Deidre's doctor.

Anyway, we're home now, and Deidre is parked on the couch watching a movie.

Many thanks to all for your kind words of support through all this.

Sent from my G1...

Settled in for the night...

Deidre is sleeping soundly and I'm "bedded" down for the night.  Hopefully the nurses won't wake me too many times during the night.

Sent from my G1...

Deidre's Surgery

The surgeon just came out to tell that Deidre's doing fine and the surgery went well.

More later...

Sent from my G1...

Evening Cookout

"Did you want me to cook all the 'dogs'"?

"Yes, you can cook all of them except Chewie."

Ha, ha; do you want me to cook all the hot dogs?"

"Well, it is 85 degrees out, so they're all hot."

"Ha, ha. I'm going to try this one more time, them I'm going to leave and go ride my bike again. Do you want me to cook both packages?"

Both women in the room glanced down below my belt and burst into laughter.

I knew I had been outclassed.

I'm starting out with one... container of cylindrical processed meat products and re-evaluating after the kids have eaten.

My Friday Afternoon Motorcycle Commute

I had been watching the radar all afternoon, and I had seemed to luck out. The worst of the storms were passing Boston just as my day was ending, and the next front seemed to be 2 hours away. So off I went.

All was well all the way out Route 2 to 495, where I saw that the traffic was slowing as traversed the on-ramp.

"Damn, if I could have seen this before I took the exit, I would have stayed on 2."

So, I merged into traffic and made my way into the middle lane. As I progressed up 495, it became apparent to me that traffic was slow, not due to an accident or anything like, but due to the sky was turning quite dark, quite quickly.

"I am definitely going to get wet before I get home."

The low-hanging dark clouds were fascinating to see from the back of the bike. Changing quickly due to the winds, it almost seemed as if I could reach up and swirl them with my own hands.

I reached 119 and headed towards home. Slowly, I came out from under the dark clouds.

"Maybe this is my lucky day. Maybe I've gotten past the rain line."

I could see into the distance, and the air was clear. No rain ahead. I was going to make it home dry.

Then I came to the intersection of 119 and 225. I ended up first in line in the right-hand lane, next to a JEEP in the left-hand lane. Both lanes could go straight. I was going to be first to the lane merge past the intersection.

The light turned green, and off I went. I quickly advanced up through the gears and was easily ahead of the JEEP by the time I got to the lane merge when it happened.

Judging from the amounts of standing water I ran through later down the road, Groton/Pepperell must have gotten about 2 inches of water dropped on them in the next 15 minutes. For about five of those minutes, I could barely see the road in front of me. People were pulled off to the side of the road to wait out the cloudburst. No one was moving faster than 10 MPH.

Needless to say, I got soaked.

When I got home, I looked at myself in the mirror. The only thing dry on me was my head because of the helmet. I was drenched.

At least now I know I can safely ride my motorcycle in the rain.

This one is for you, Emma

SuperDuck (left) has long been a denizen of my desk at work.  Emma bought it for me for Christmas many years ago.  More recently, maybe two years ago, TontoDuck (right) was also given to me for my birthday (I think; it may have been Christmas again).  Ever since, he's been living on the top of the refridgerator awaiting my taking him in to keep SuperDuck company.

Clearly I finally got around to doing so.

Sent from my G1...