I am sprung from the hospital and recovering at home from the atrial ablation procedure. I'll spare you the pictures... But suffice to say that I had IVs in both arms, both hands, two arterial lines, and FOUR punctures (two in each groin).
As I said, peacocks have such beautiful colors. You don't notice, in their sparkly glory, how much they resemble healing bruises.
Anyway, the doc is excited. Apparently, my veins separated nicely from the nerves and didn't try to reconnect. Instead of a 5-6 hour procedure, he was able to finish in about 3 - 3.5 hours.
I had the WORST. BACK-ACHE. EVER. Worse than back labor. Worse than a wrenched back (though I can't swear to that, never having had one). Worse than someone ripping my spine out through my sacrum.
Oh, and morphine? Good stuff, if they remember to give you the anti-nausea meds.
So after about 5 hours flat on my back, I'm allowed to sit up. They put me upright in the bed. The room begins to spin. I have that "urp" feeling. The nurse, being a sensible soul, brings me a wash tub to yark into, not one of those puny "emesis basins" -- apparently, this woman has had experience with yarking.
Sadly, the dietary lady had brought up dinner. Lasagne. With coffee.
Really??? I haven't eaten in about 2 days. I'm drugged up to my eyeballs with morphine, anaesthesia and the like, and you bring LASAGNE? And COFFEE? She looks at me and says, sadly, "Don't you like it??"
Ummmmmmm. You got any pudding, perhaps?? Hubby fed me a little container of chocolate pudding, that I managed to keep down.
I'll laugh about it. Later.
They got me out of there the day after the surgery. Not, however, before a night spent, every 2 hours, with a nurse checking my groin. I have the most-observed nether-bits in the community, I think. Though I am going to say that the hospital was lovely.
I was at Silver Cross Hospital and I have to say that from my first experience, it was a lesson in patient care that went quite well. Overall, except for one little thing with the one procedure, I felt cared for, they listened when I freaked out, and they really did everything they could to make sure I was ok.
Even the little Polish lady who took my final EKG... "You go home as soon as you can; we have germs here!" Well, I did manage to pick up a sniffle, but I really felt better at home.
My friends sent flowers and cards. And my choir buddy came to visit, but honestly -- can't remember much of her visit, as it was the day of the surgery, and I was seriously loopy.
The nurse anaesthetist told me "You won't remember a thing." Wowza. She was right. I remember the cardiac cath lab; it was a freezer! I remember nurse Ken, who was driving the cart, exchanging Cubs/Sox jokes with nurse Bob. And then...
Nothing. Seriously, not a blasted thing till I was in recovery.
The doc says that after about 2 months, once my heart calms down, I should be off all the cardiac meds. He said he could "barely" induce my heart to misbehave (it figures...) but that he was happy with how the whole thing went.
Oh, and they tell me I'm anemic. Oh joy.
I'm not taking iron pills, that's for sure. My tummy objects. Let's just put it that way and leave it there.
So, the whole "in sickness" thing? Major, MAJOR props to Hubby. The first night home, I'm really getting sick. Coughing, nose snotty. Fever, he thinks. About 2 a.m. I feel horrible. As in, "it's a good thing I'm on the bed because I'm gonna pass out."
It's true love when Hubby gets up, gets me up, talks me through a crisis, and then gets me over to the toilet. And makes sure I'm ok. Truly no secrets when you gotta pee and you need help, that's for sure.
After my veins decide to get better, I do have to have more blood work done for that anemia thing. But right now, I'm considering hiring myself out as a lawn sprinkler, since I have so many holes in me.
I decided, since I have a week off, that I needed to finish the Blue Baby Sweater. And I did. It looks nice. I used some plain white buttons for it, and sadly, I don't have enough for TWO sweaters.
This is at a 6-month size, and I really probably could make a "newborn" size, but nobody I know ever has babies that small.
So I figured I could cast on a hat. Which I did. Simple, simple, SIMPLE. Just knitting around and I'll let the brim curl. If I get ambitious I'll cast on a pair of socks or booties.
I have this yarn in a purple variegated, too. So maybe I make a "crazy hat" to give away. Not sure yet.
All I know is that I actually needed a break from the socks. It's back at the socks in the next few days, though.
I can take this one off the list and add another one. Or just trim the list by one project. Though Heaven knows I have enough other projects to add to it.
Not sure yet. But I do know I have to start working on Kid #2's afghan soon. Lucky for us, the weather has been cool, so it's not as bad to have an afghan on your lap.
|Mooooooooo (with a Swiss accent)|
Since I've been in a news hole, I think we need cows.
Specifically, Swiss cows. Specifically, Swiss cows along the mountain near Reichenbach Falls from our trip.
Suffice to say that the location was sufficiently remote that they were as bemused as we were... They weren't sure we should be there, and we were surprised THEY were there.
Smelly little beasties, but very cute.
We have 42 cucumbers. In 6 days. I'm not sure which are "pickles" and which are cukes. And when I searched The Google, I came up with this brilliant answer:
"Pickles are cured in brine and cucumbers are eaten in a salad."
Really?? Never would have guessed.
Note to self: Next year, plant the pickles in the other bed...