#ankleligaments

[justanotherfatgirrrl]

The social isolation and bedroom residing is starting to get the better of me. Tonight I will sleep on the other side of the bed and see of it helps. I spent my first day outside, even though I am not allowed to. But I am such a badass rebel. (It certainly had nothing to do with my carers bribing me with food and promises of carrying me around.) We went to the movies. It was great to get out. So except for having to stay in be most of the time. My only other big problem: You know when you sometimes accidentally pee on you hand? Well when it happens to you, you get to wipe it off and wash your hands. I have to first cover my crutch handle in urine then hobble to the basin wash my hands and my crutch. It is realky becoming tedious. I am also very curious about my stitches and I am considering opening up my plasters to see. I once passed out watching a surgery and I imagine myself fainting when I realise that I had been cut open (despite having seen fotos of my surgery, I am scared of real life) Advice for today: wear gloves when going to the toilet when you have crutches. 2. Spice up your bed life by turning to different sides and angles.

[justanotherfatgirrrl]

Do the monkey with me

I am sitting on the couch and watching as my muscles disappear, leaving my leg as a squishy pile of jelly. It’s not like I had a lot of muscle to lose! It is very sad yet I can’t stop watching and shaking.

My lungs are also starting to reflect the fact that I am bed ridden. I seriously feel like an old man that has smoked since he was 10. Trying to get all that slime out.

My physio friend told me to swing my arms around and sit up as much as possible. Everytime I sit I do the monkey; from Johnny Bravo. (My mom just laughs in confusion)

I have finally mastered toileting one footed and left constipation station behind. (Whooooooo)

I finish my antibiotics tomorrow and then a beautiful glass of wine will be waiting for me.

I started getting cocky on my crutches and have almost fallen numerous timea because of that, and also nit listening when people tell me the floor is wet. But good thing, before this fall down the stairs, I was a master faller. I looked pretty cool falling too (probably the only one that thinks this, but hey self confidence is key).

I also (finally) discovered the awesomeness of Breaking Bad and I am binge watching it. Since I practically sleep my days away, and when I am awake I watch BB, I am constantly dreaming of the possibility of having my own lab; in my dreams I conviently forget that I only did 10 minutes of science in school before deciding to “f#ck that sh$t” (as the youngens say).

Advice for today: 1. Watch realistic seriea when sleeping a lot. 2. If you don’t know the Monkey go and cry in a corner because your life is almost more sad than mine.

[justanotherfatgirrrl]

All aboard

I thought yesterday that lastnight might be my last night in hospital, I therefore thought it would be suited to reflect on how crappy a hospital stay could be, especially being a control freak like me.

Your independence is taken away and your life controlled by others, often those others either don’t care for personal hygiene or just don’t care about yours; this morning my legs were covered in my own vommit and I spilled my bed pan; their way of handling it was to laugh. If I wasn’t feeling so sick I would have flung my puke at them like an angry ape. Bet they thought I couldn’t handle my morphine. Joke’s on them! I was just excited to leave

Irritation has gotten the best of me. Irritated at writing this post, irritated at people complaining, irritated at the lady snoring; she knows lying on her back makes her snore, irritated that I am here and sick and complaining, nurses irritated that I think I can do their job, I am irritated that they think they can do theirs.

Also irritated that my sense of humour is gone along with the morphine.

This morning I woke to a full on army camp, the only thing lacking was the uniform. I swear I heard the nurse say up 2, 3, 4. Bath. Or maybe the last of the morphine was wearing out.

I am finally able to go to the toilet and I realised I had fooled myself earlier as I was arrriving at constipation station. A lot of citrus soda later and I am not saying it was me but I am not denying it either; Melissa’s toilet is leaking. Good thing noone points fingers at a cripple person.

I am now safely tucked into bed by my mother who, before today, did not know you have to press ‘start’ to get a gps working. I am just hoping her tucking skills are better than her sense of arriving at destinations.

Advice for today: teach your elders to use a gps. 2. Don’t try squeeze when you have low Blood Pressure.