What I want for Christmas is ….soft foods?
Yea, sorry I missed my Wednesday’s poets post this week, I was in the hospital overnight connected to this machine that beeped and dispensed saline and antibiotics.
I didn’t even expect to find myself in the hospital this week. I had had some severe stomach pains over the weekend so I sent a note on one of those patient portals to my doctor.
Her response after reading my epistle was very short and sweet. “Go to the VA ER and ask for a CT scan. ”
One of the reasons I talk about my medical history is that I am in a group of people who have a rare disease called “Wegener’s Granulomatosis, which was changed to Polyangiitis with Granulomatosis.” I just use the acronym WG/GPA.
A lot of my problems started when I was diagnosed with that autoimmune disease in 2003, which will be sixteen years in the first part of January. So since my diagnosis I’ve discovered that the body can fail in the most amazing ways.
So I went to the VA ER, they took blood and they did a CT scan. I thought they would just give me an antibiotic and send me home. No, they told me I had a confirmed case of diverticulitis and that I was staying overnight.
Pretty much I have lived in a flapping hospital gown with a black bra and white panties. I say again, I wasn’t expecting to stay there.
I was only allowed broth for dinner. Then I was given the paperwork. One of the nurses told me that I seemed pretty smart and on the ball. After hearing some of the delirium in the hallways of certain other sick folks, I guess that was a compliment. Anyway, she told me that I probably already knew what I could eat and what I couldn’t eat. Yep, she was right.
But if I needed to talk to a dietitian, then she would put in a consult. Since I was going home the next day– oh, yea I am determined. I said no. I did tell her I would call my dietitian when I got home– the one who knew my other diet requirements.
So yea, it is clear broth or soft foods for the next month. I’m still reeling from the antibiotics and had to take a few home for popping.
One of my nurses was kind of concerned that I was going home too soon. It wasn’t soon enough after a night of no sleep and without my little dog. It’s too noisy to sleep in a hospital.
And, I did my thing. Instead of blowing into that thingie-ma-bopper that keeps you safe from pneumonia, I asked if I could walk instead. When I got the green light, I packed up my pole that was dispensing antibiotic, and walked the hallways in my hospital ward, my hospital gown flapping as I probably showed my little world the little black bra and white panties.
I did hear one of the nurses say to another, “she is going fast.” I guess someone on those antibiotics rarely are able to even roll out of the hospital bed.
So all I get for Christmas this year is soft food and Foxy.