Hurling Jello

If only my jello looked like this!

If only my jello looked like this!

 

You knew it was bound to happen, right? After all, it wouldn’t be fair to leave you hanging with just a list of the 5 Best Things About Being in the Hospital.  And, given the fact…

I’m. Still. Here.

…with nothing to do but read, write, play Criminal Case on FB, watch really bad television, and give The Man the stink eye when he shows up to have ‘lunch with me’ and brings a sandwich and FRENCH FRIES for himself, knowing I can’t have even one!  Whaaaatever. Karma is a bitch, and she’s my BFF. So there.

Anyway, I’ve decided to comprise a list of The Worst Things About Being in the Hospital. Notice there’s not a number attached, as I really can’t say how long this list will be. I’ve been here 6 days now. Could take a lil’ bit. So, pour a glass of wine or grab a fruity cocktail, maybe some chips & guacamole…or one of the other 8,472,931 edible things I can’t have…sit back, relax and enjoy!

In no particularly order, I present to you my idea of the worst parts about the forced hiatus from my life. Ta-da!!!

Food and Beverage Commercials- Believe me, I understand the power of advertising, but have you ever noticed how many commercials on television are food/beverage related? Probably not, because unless you are in the hospital on a liquid diet, you can choose (or not) to have anything that happens to flash on that screen. At first, I thought I was just sensitive to it, because I’m starving. Uh…no. I counted them. During one commercial break, there were 5 spots: one for chocolate, one for burgers, one for chips, one for Jello (isn’t that ironic?) and one for Applebee’s. I let the last one slide, because my friend Maribeth is the star 🙂 The last time my nurse came in to check on me and ask if I needed anything, I told her she could call the networks and politely instruct them to temporarily suspend the run of any and all food/beverage/restaurant commercials until I get sprung from this joint. She giggled.

I was dead serious.

Vampires- I know, I know…phlebotomists. Yes…I respect the need for them in the hospital. After all they are specialists at what they do. However, it doesn’t make me loathe their 4am, needle-wielding,  wake-up calls any less. Perhaps if all of them looked like Robert Pattinson, or the guys from True Blood, I would be less grumpy about the visits. Okay, that’s a lie. Anyone that wakes me up just to stick me, drain me, and leave me is never received with open arms regardless of the time of day. Oh, and overall…their bedside manner SUCKS.

Noises- There are more than half a dozen separate sounds I can hear at the moment: my IV pump, the air conditioner (very noisy), the nurses relaying chart information, the lady next door yelling “Somebody help me, I gotta get up!” (I think she may be in the wrong unit, if catch my drift), the hospital PA system announcing a “Code Pink” (it’s a drill, I asked),  an alarm on one of the elderly patients’ beds that plays the tune of “Old MacDonald” incessantly and various other beeps, bells and dings. It’s maddening….even with my DOOR SHUT. I will admit to the temptation of actually recording it. After all, The Man does post-production sound effects for film, and this stuff would be GOLDEN to have in his sound library. Then I remembered about the french fries.

Sheets and Pillows- Now before you go thinking I’m some diva, requiring Eygptian cotton, 5000 thread count (do those even exist?) sheets, and goose down pillows like the ones at a 5-star hotel….don’t. Totally not me. I followed The Dead in college and am perfectly happy sleeping in a tent with an air mattress, covered with a COTTON SHEET and a pillow that just doesn’t run from its pillowcase. The pillows here are covered in plastic, and I understand why…but I don’t have to like them, do I? The only thing that irritates me more than having my bed linens wrinkly and in a bunch is feeling little ‘pills’ on them. It happens on…you guessed it…50/50 poly-cotton blend fabric. And wouldn’t you know it….the place designed to keep me bedridden and resting uses these sheets! For the love of all things holy….that’s why 100%, no-iron, cotton percale sheets exist. Get a clue, hospital admin people.

Bathing- I’ve been here 5 nights and 6 days now, and had 2 showers. All the days in between, I smelled like a dirty hippie. You know why? Because bathing myself with basically one arm is almost impossible. You see, I have this pesky IV in my left arm and they put it right in the bend of my elbow (big fat, juicy vein there) so I can’t bend my arm. Plus, to take a shower it has to be wrapped in plastic and made waterproof with tape that MacGyer would die to have in his tool pouch. Medical tape is the first cousin to Duct Tape, I believe. Seriously. And forget about washing my hair. Just couldn’t happen. So what do you think is at the top of my “To Do List” once I get out?

Peeing every 20 minutes- Since I was beyond dehydrated when I came in, I’ve had constant fluids running through me the entire time. And between The Liquid Diet (see next item on list) and the fluids, I haven’t peed this much since I was preggo with Sweet Pea. Up and down, up and down. Every 20 to 30 minutes. It’s exhausting, and painful, given the nature of my illness.  Again, I understand the benefits, but I thought I was supposed to rest here. Hello, catheter anyone?

The Liquid Diet- Remember how I talked about loving Jello in this post?  Well, you can forget all that BS. Because I’ve got a bit of strength back now, and I’m fairly certain the next tray that comes through my door sporting a fancy little plastic dish full of that translucent, colorful shit is going to be hurled at the wall. That goes for its equally nasty friend gelato too. Maybe I can say I was redecorating, and I thought the walls needed some modern “artwork” 🙂

Luigi, please go back to chasing Mario, will ya?

Luigi, stick with your partner Mario and go back to your day job, will ya?

***On a serious note though, the MOST EXCRUCIATING thing about being here is missing The Beans. The hospital will not allow the littles to come up and visit. Sugar Bean barely made the age requirement herself, and only came once, on Saturday for about 15 minutes. I think seeing me here spooked her and I didn’t press her to come back. If all goes well, I’ll be out this afternoon, have my babies in my arms and go back to life as usual in a few days. Okay, maybe not ‘as usual’, since that got me here in the first place. I’ll be making some adjustments so I can continue to entertain y’all with the adventures of my life from anywhere but here!

 

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You’re shacked up where?

redcross

Hi ladies and gentlemen, it’s The Calibamamom, coming to you LIVE from…

a hospital bed!! 

It’s true. My colon got angry at me, decided I needed a vacation, and promptly made me sick. REALLY sick. So my travel agent  doctor booked me a nice room at a nearby hospital for a few days . Since my only connection to the outside world at the moment  is my laptop, and I’m hopped up on pain killers and antibiotics, I thought it might be fun to highlight some of the best things about being here. I mean, overall it sucks, but there are some advantages (wink, wink). Especially if you are a sleep-deprived, SAHM to 3 Beans, a dog, and 3 lizards. Oh, and wifey to The Man.

Here’s my Top 5….

1. Ass-baring, one size fits none, gowns.  Talk about a fashion statement!  They snap at the shoulders, and tie in the back. However, even if you connect all the ties and snaps in the right places, chances are your ass will still be hanging out. Which is convenient if your nurse happens to be a little moody. You can just roll over and tell her to kiss it! Oh, and don’t get me started on the weird little pictures/icons printed on the fabric. I mean where do they find this stuff?

2. People at my beck and call…with the push of a button. So far, all of my nurses have been awesome. Although it would be way cooler if they were all insanely gorgeous, male models who walked around in nothing but scrub pants. But I suspect that might slow the healing process. People would be having heart attacks and strokes left and right, in an effort to extend their stays. I might be inclined to fake a coma myself.

3. Jello. Red is the best flavor in my opinion, but here they alternate colors/flavors. So far I’ve had red, green and orange. Just waiting for the yellow, blue and purple to show up so I can give ’em a gold star for supporting The Rainbow. Oh, and they give you a free pass to have as much as you want, especially if you are on that marvelous ‘clear liquid’ diet (see photo below). If only they knew how to make the jello “electric”. Perhaps I should give them the recipe. That would be super fun, right?

Yummy, huh?

Yummy, huh?

4. IV pain meds every 3 hours…Woo-hoo!!! Need I say more? If you want to fly high, and be pain-free–or at least not give a shit that you are in pain–the hospital is THE place to be. Of course if you are like me, and allergic to all the really good stuff, it’s always fun to watch the doctor try to figure out what to give you. Every time I’ve been in the hospital could have been filmed as an episode of  ‘Mysteries in the ER’. True story.

5.  Rabbit-turd ice. You know what I’m talking about right? The ice that’s so fun to crunch, and is only available in hospitals and select fast food places like Sonic Burger (FYI…they sell it in bags). Give me a bucket of that ice, and I won’t bother you for hours. I once checked into buying one of those ice machines for my house, but it turns out they are pretty expensive. Who knew?

Anyway, I’m here for a few days, so this probably won’t be my last post from the M*A*S*H unit, so stay tuned!!

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You just got Birk’d!

Let me begin by saying, I am very proud of The Man.

Yesterday, while we were at the park with The Beans, he was asked to participate in a pickup game of basketball– two on two to be specific by a trio of boys less than half his age. He could have been their father, and he accepted.

Lord only knows what possessed them to invite him. After all, he was napping in the grass, wearing cargo shorts, a tee-shirt and… wait for it… Birkenstocks. Nothing about him screamed “pick me, pick me” and yet they did. Maybe they were desperate for a fourth. Or perhaps they were intent on exploiting the 40 year-old hippie dude napping peacefully in the grass. Whatever the case, kudos to them!

Honestly, I was shocked he knew how to play. This was a natural assumption, considering he was a baseball player in high school, I’ve never seen him play, and watching the Lakers duke it out with another team while sipping beer and eating wings from the comfort of our sofa hardly qualifies one to actually play the game, right? Giving credit where credit is due though, his passing game was impressive and he sank several baskets. At one point he even did the quintessential “Jordan stretch maneuver” (aka the Jordan Nike logo) in an attempt to dunk the ball, despite the fact he was 5 feet too short and has never dunked a basketball in his life. This resulted in his left index finger having an up close and personal encounter with the pole holding up the basket. But hey…at least he tried. How many other 40-somethings would have been so bold? Yeah, I thought so.

The Man’s got game. Who knew?

So. The games are over, having been halted by a call from one boy’s mom, summoning him home for dinner, and the other two followed suit, leaving as well. At this point, The Man realized “Oh shit. I’m the old guy.” I gathered The Beans, and we patiently waited laughed as The Man limped to the car, already feeling the effects of his bravado, aching muscles and…um… age. He, of course blamed it on the Birkenstocks.

The best part though, has been hearing about it for the last 24 hours. The pride in his voice is something that’s been absent for a long time, so I have been more than happy to listen to the play by play, so to speak. On the flip side, the most entertaining is the realization that he is more “Cartman” Jordan than Michael Jordan. Oh, and the explanation he gave the doctor this morning when we went to have the injured finger examined. It’s now in a splint, by the way. This being said, it inspired him to commit to getting in better shape, not only for his health, but also so he can return to the same court, play another pick-up game and walk away talking smack, saying….

“You just got Birk’d.” 

Tick tock….and make sure it doesn’t stop

Growing up around medical professionals, EMT’s, law enforcement people and family members who had all sorts of heart related issues (both physical and emotional) I have heard the list of  symptoms many times. Now that I’m 40, I guess I have to pay attention.

Especially since I am an 18 wheeler.

I love y’all so, I’m sharing. Watch this:

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