Saturday, March 12, 2005

The Catheter Chronicles II: The Wrath of Khan

So when we last left the intrepid organs of the Starship Stacy, he was just waking up from the anaestesia.

Mainly because his gurney was bumpbed by an orderly named Khan.

(Actually, I have no idea what his real name was since everything was blurry and I couldn't read his name tag, but he looked like a young Ricardo Montalban, so you know the chicks were digging him. Ooh. A 70's reference. I'm taking a bow now.)

It was like an eerie flashback when I came to because I was back in the same room where I experienced all the pleasentries of pre-op. Had I fallen asleep before the surgery? Was it all just a bad dream, caused by two many Trader Joe's mini-pizzas? Or had I died and all of heaven was organized...gasp...just like a hospital, thus the pale, white walls??

A pleasant looking raven haired temptress asked me if I wanted some juice. I shook my head faster than I should have because I suddenly became very dizzy. If you've ever experienced surgery under the knife you know that the first thing you desire upon awakening is a cool beverage.

And the hardest pain pills (or if you're lucky, drip) they can provide.

She brought the atypical hospital meal, orange juice and Jello. I've had Jello in all its forms...too frozen so your spoon can't graps a piece...sitting out too long so again, the spoon is useless. And this kind, fresh, bouncy and full of life.

Not the difficult part, I had to manage to rise high enough to get the straw into my mouth.

OOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!

Fortunately, that was just in my mind and not out loud. I was trying to look stereotypically manly in front of the raven haired nurse, so I just grunted lowly. Most women like grunting, unless you're dragging them by the hair.

Then they turn into raving lunatics.

I managed to sit up just enough to make a 30 degree angle between my waist and my torso. The raven haired nurse propped the back part of the gurney up to support my back and I was set. I smiled at her, looked into her dark brown eyes and said in my mind...

"Hug me. We'd both enjoy it."

I tried to use my rarely used Stacy Telepathy Powers, but I must have been weak from the surgery because it proved to no avail.

Sigh.

The juice was the sweetest, tastiest, most refreshing glass of juice I had had in some time. The Jello wasn't bad either. I tapped it a few times with the spoon to test it's freshness and it jiggled and wiggled like Jello should.

Normally I would find this highly amusing because most foods don't have this entertainment value encased within their colorful soul but Jello, wonderfully tasty Jello was just what I needed.

This is why Jello must always be served in hospitals. Even if the patients don't eat it, they can at least find some amusement in playing with it. In fact, I once had a dream where I turned our backyard pool into pure Jello. Then my friends and family all jumped in and went squish, straight into the center. We were like the fruit they sometimes put in Jello.

Of course, then the dream turned ugly because none of us could free ourselves. People we didn't know came from everywhere, from the far bowels of my memory and pointed and laughed.

Then I woke up and found Jello in my pants.

Go figure.

The fine staff at Memorial Hospital East were kind enough to provide me with a taxi voucher so I could travel the three miles to my Fortress of Solitude where a majority of the life of Stacy Without an E takes place. I could have called someone, but who wants to pick up a 5'7" weakling instead of enjoy a delicious midday work lunch?

The taxi driver was a cross between a beatnik and a hippie. That's right...a bippie. He didn't say a word until we arrived at my home. I guess he wasn't a big fan of hospital vouchers.

I tipped him anyway because it seemed as though he was trying to avoid the potholes.

Sorta.

I spent the next 5 days doing less than nothing. I didn't even really watch any movies because that would require kneeling down to place the DVD in the player. I had already had difficulty lying down. I wasn't moving. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

Except for the pain, it was the best 5 days I had experienced in quite some time. Just my tired body, my comfortable bed and an occasional beverage.

And not an ounce of Jello.

1 comment:

  1. cold bevvies are the best, most comforting thing ever. they make your heart beat slower.

    ReplyDelete