Sometimes slowly, sometimes rapidly, since I've been back home from the hospital, ponderings have been crossing my mind. At times they seem lucid, other times they seem rather random. This is a random thoughts blog after all.
This human activity, sleep. I find it embracing and elusive. Although not at the same time. Or so it seems.
It was so much easier to eat at the hospital! They would bring me food three times a day. Even if I didn't eat everything, it showed up. I find at home, even though I have a very good appetite, the idea of making a meal can be very unappealing. Maybe I should take a little stroll through the yard.
Drugs, drugs, drugs. Maybe it's the drugs talking. Maybe it's the drugs writing. Maybe it's just the way it is. Maybe I'm going on about the painkillers.
Abra the cat is a very nice fur ball.
I don't have to try too hard to remember that, although they may be few, the people who have stepped up to help me out have really made a huge difference in my new post-op job: concentrating on healing. Who knew how big a deal changing the cat litter box could be for me? Yes, Abra is a very nice fur ball, but still has not figured out how to change her own toilet!
When was the last time I weighed 150 pounds???
Who knew walking 600 feet would be a big accomplishment? I use to walk 1 to 3 miles a day pre-surgery.
The few good roommates have been more good since I've been back. Meanwhile, of course, the many bad roommates continue to be fucking moronic self-centered idiots.
Ditto.
My scar IS pretty gnarly, dude.
ICU was a terrible experience. ICU should stand for: Insensitive Care Unit.
I knew there were some people who just don't "get it" before my surgery, imagine how I think about that afterward. Wise people don't attempt to compare what I have been going through with their hangnails. Unwise people do. Sorry your car broke down, but I'm still confused how that's an issue bigger than how shitty I feel today - you know, that big scar meant organs were removed and moved about and such. Parts of my body are still numb. Much like parts of your brains apparently.
For future reference: morphine is very, very bad for me. It also doesn't kill the pain.
Who is that tapping at my chamber door?
I have a craving for biscuits and gravy! Ohhh, and there it goes!
Be good to one another.
This human activity, sleep. I find it embracing and elusive. Although not at the same time. Or so it seems.
It was so much easier to eat at the hospital! They would bring me food three times a day. Even if I didn't eat everything, it showed up. I find at home, even though I have a very good appetite, the idea of making a meal can be very unappealing. Maybe I should take a little stroll through the yard.
Drugs, drugs, drugs. Maybe it's the drugs talking. Maybe it's the drugs writing. Maybe it's just the way it is. Maybe I'm going on about the painkillers.
Abra the cat is a very nice fur ball.
I don't have to try too hard to remember that, although they may be few, the people who have stepped up to help me out have really made a huge difference in my new post-op job: concentrating on healing. Who knew how big a deal changing the cat litter box could be for me? Yes, Abra is a very nice fur ball, but still has not figured out how to change her own toilet!
When was the last time I weighed 150 pounds???
Who knew walking 600 feet would be a big accomplishment? I use to walk 1 to 3 miles a day pre-surgery.
The few good roommates have been more good since I've been back. Meanwhile, of course, the many bad roommates continue to be fucking moronic self-centered idiots.
Ditto.
My scar IS pretty gnarly, dude.
ICU was a terrible experience. ICU should stand for: Insensitive Care Unit.
I knew there were some people who just don't "get it" before my surgery, imagine how I think about that afterward. Wise people don't attempt to compare what I have been going through with their hangnails. Unwise people do. Sorry your car broke down, but I'm still confused how that's an issue bigger than how shitty I feel today - you know, that big scar meant organs were removed and moved about and such. Parts of my body are still numb. Much like parts of your brains apparently.
For future reference: morphine is very, very bad for me. It also doesn't kill the pain.
Who is that tapping at my chamber door?
I have a craving for biscuits and gravy! Ohhh, and there it goes!
Be good to one another.
1 comment:
Take care, Rod. Don't judge people too harshly. It's tough to know exactly how to deal with cancer, and cancer survival. Concentrate on the surviving bit, eh? And let me know if you need anything.
(But remember, I tend not to pick up the phone, so use alternate methods of communication.)
--dsm
Post a Comment