False alarm

I was hoping to write triumphantly from home tonight about my successful jail break.  It was looking good in the early part of the day.

Yesterday they removed everything but the IV.  Having no bags hanging around my legs felt like such freedom!  My doc told me to walk A LOT.  100 laps in the hallway, he said.  I mapped it with google maps pedometer.  100 laps would have been 15 miles.  I don’t think he meant it.  I did 4 miles.  Another 5 today so far.  It really does help.  Last night was pretty rough.  I had a hard time during the day getting my bladder to function properly.  Pathetic little pees.  It got much worse during the night, and kept me from getting any sleep.  At 5:30 this morning I discovered that if I walked a good piece, I’d get a decent pee as a reward, and with it some much needed relief.  By the time my docs stopped in at 8:00 I was feeling pretty good.  They were both feeling very positive about my progress and said that I could leave as soon as I produced some real stool.

“It’s on!” I thought.  I can do this!

Still waiting, I’m afraid.

In the meantime, since percocet has a negative effect on the movement of your bowels, at the suggestion of my doc, i tried cutting the dose in half.  Serious mistake.  Instead of walking out of here in style, I’ve spent the afternoon writhing around trying to get comfortable.  The pain is finally under control, but it’s pretty clear that I’m here for the night.  GAH!  I was pretty excited about cooking dinner in my own kitchen, and snuggling with my wife and my dog for the night without the beeps and honks of medical equipment all around.  Tomorrow!

On a brighter note, they even removed the IV today, so my movements are unrestricted!  I’ve still got the tail stuck in my arm so that they can re-connect me overnight should they choose, but it feels great to be free of strings..  like a real boy.  I took a sink bath this morning, and put on my street clothes (so sure was I that I’d be leaving!).  It’s been pretty funny wandering the halls today, the IV tail, hospital bracelet and funny hospital socks the only evidence that I’m a patient and not a volunteer of some sort.

Blah blah blah.

Triumph tomorrow.

0 Replies to “False alarm”

  1. I’m glad about your evolution, each of these steps are a triumph, it is becoming closer to the goal, you must be patient (more), we are all waiting (like you!!!!) to give you more and more hugs OUT!

  2. Ezra, You are amazing! I stumbled on you blog a while ago & I check in from time to time. I’m sending you, you wife, and your dog big, positive thoughts. I thought of you guys last Tuesday as I left my family and headed off to work and you headed to this most recent surgery. So, for what it’s worth, a stranger out here is thinking of you from time to time, sending you good vibrations, prayers, whatever you want to call them! Go forth and heal!! You really are cool.

  3. “met you” via Megan’s website and pics from her visit out to your place a year or so ago. Have kept up with your life via the interweb since. You and your wife are amazing people. I hope I get the chance to meet you both in person someday. I hope you follow through with the tattoo decoration idea after you get healed up. Sending you both cyberhugs, and may God bless and keep you both.

  4. Hey, Ezra,

    A fb friend posted your website/blog and I’ve been super-interested in your updates…sorry to hear that you’re still stuck there, but glad to hear that things are going relatively well. Best wishes! Ciao, Chaundra

  5. When I was in my early teens I had to have an emergency appendectomy. There wasn’t a hospital in my small home town, so I was in exile in this hospital in the next small town over. I desperately wanted out of the hospital, in that overly dramatic way that only 13 year old girls can muster. Like you I wasn’t allowed out until there was evidence that all the plumbing was working–in my case that I was passing gas was the magic sign that was watched for. Of course nobody told me this because I was just a kid. This small town hospital was staffed by elderly sweet sweet small town nurses, who wouldn’t dare say the word “fart” or “gas” if you held a gun to their head. Thus at three hour intervals I was asked “Dear, did you fluff yet?” … to which I would answer “Um, no?” because I didn’t know what they were asking!! Lets just say it was a looong couple of days until that got straightened out.

    Which is my way of saying – take heart – at least you have a roadmap and a goal! 🙂

    Blessings on you – this blog is an amazing testimonial to your heart, and to all the people who love you.

  6. your courage and humor in the face of all of this are beyond inspiring. what a champion you are! i commend you for embodying the best qualities of the human spirit in the face of adversity. may all the desires of your heart be fulfilled tomorrow. blessings on you and your wife, who must be a true champ as well.

  7. Why is elimination the oracle that determines good health? After sinus surgery I wasn’t allowed to leave until I could pee in front of a nurse. Of course, at one point I finally did that and was released. But really, my moment of triumph was when in recovery, I decided that I was getting the fuck out of there and just got off the gurney and started heading for the door. Oh the commotion! Don’t do that, though. Please wait for the magic stool.
    Fingers crossed that tomorrow will be the day!

  8. Keep on walking. Soon enough you will be walking out the door and into yours. Take it easy on your front steps when ya get home.
    Reconnecting thoughts & Peace

  9. screw it. i’ll bring you some fake poop. you should be home now. in yer civvies. cookin’ shit in yer own kitchen. with yer wife. and with yer dog. say the word. . .

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