Friday, April 20, 2012

12- What a View

           Rap, rap, tap.
 "Mister Donnie, its time to wake up.  Just for a minute..."
"Ummf, I know, so you can check my vitals, thank you.  That's alright, I'm hungry anyway. And yahh,  I'm hurting."
  Every time I move, my abdomen rages and fights itself.

 My mouth is as dry as a spoonful of cinnamon, and my water bottles keep getting smaller.  I'm pretty sure that's not me.  I could be wrong, of course.  My bread basket looks more like a potbelly now, and it is excruciating.  The cirrhosis isn't going anywhere, yet the ascites is accumulating rapidly.  My guts have to make room for this molten fluid. The shifting of my stomach, colon, lower intestines, and diaphragm, is causing me relentless pain.  I need to speak up. I don't know when the nurse will be back.

"Nurse, I'm in heaps of pain.  Can I have meds, soon?  And, what's your name?  I forget."
 "Its Gina. Where does it hurt, on a scale of one to ten?"
I take the abundance of cargo in both hands.
"Eight, when's dinner?"
'I'm sorry, but you missed dinner.  Kitchen's closed.  I'll get you some medicine, though."
"Thanks, Lisa."

I missed dinner?  I just closed my eyes for a second.  What time...Ah, crap.  Its not 2 pm, its am.  I did it again.  I'm not going to eat until seven.  Urgh.  I swear Doc Brown's flux capacitor is stuck on my bed somewhere.

I'm in a different room now, and they gave me a window.  All the same, that window is so they can keep an eye on me.  They keep watching me, like I'm up to something.  I just have to sit back, and soak in the view of another piece of the hospital. 

I still don't know where I am, and I'm seriously confused and bothered about it.  I repeatedly have a ludicrous memory of how I made it to this room.  In this silly memory, I am pushed in a wheelchair across East Bay Street somewhere near The Custom House.  On top of that, this 'new wing' of MUSC opens up into a courtyard, with the kind of stairs that are normally hitched to the wall of a castle.  No handrail, just stones.  We manage to make it, but I don't remember trying.  Furthermore, MUSC is supposed to be on the other side of the peninsula; by the Ashley River.

The nurse comes back with my treats, and asks if I need to pee before she steps out for a little bit.  I tell here no because I still have the catheter.  Why does she care?
She stops at the door, and asks one more time.
"Are you sure?  Because if you pee on the bed again, I'm going to put in another catheter."
"No,no,no. I already have a catheter."
Nurse Lisa, or Gina or, whatever her name is, takes a deep breath and says, "No, you took that one out."
What is she talking about?  She's the crazy one, now.  "I didn't take it out."
She sounds snippy when she echos me. "Well, I didn't take it out."

I lift up the blanket, and its gone. So I have been peeing on myself.  Yet, as I look down, I have a flash memory of watching it come out, but I don't remember doing it.  Bah.  Crap!  My penis is gone, too!  Oh wait, its still there, but its the size of my thumb.  I guess my body needed those nutrients from those tissues, too.
Now, I totally feel like a screwy six year old, with a drinking problem.  Great.  That will assist me during my schizophrenic episodes.
"Well, I better pee before you go."
EVERYTHING'S COOL.  everything's cool.

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