East, west, home’s best

Dear all,

Just to let you know the Horrible Hospital of Gloom let me go home this afternoon. So here I am, feeling exactly like road-kill. But I’ve finally had a shower, so I am nice mango-scented road-kill.

I will now go and take my ninety-million antibiotic tablets, and then I will lie down in my comfortable, cool, vinyl-covered-mattress-free bed, where I will not be awakened once every hour by alarms, squeaky doors, other patients yelling for glasses of iced water, drip machines beeping hysterically, mobile phones going off, and nurses turning all the lights on everytime they step onto the ward even if they’re just coming in to see if everyone’s asleep. And I will not be woken up at 6am by a tired, fed-up person with a blood-pressure cuff and a somewhat cavalier attitude to the nicely developing case of post-operative phlebitis in my left arm and actual socking great catheter needle in my right arm.

Isn’t H lovely, by the way?

And so are you all. Thank you so much for all the support and virtual hugs.


16 responses to “East, west, home’s best

  • Katie

    Nothing to say except, yes, they keep us sane, and it is just awful that you are having to go through this.

  • Emily

    So glad you’re home! Aren’t beds just the best? Nothing like being home in your own bed. ::hug::

  • DC

    Please get better soon! Being home always helps. *hugs*

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Oh God, aren’t hospital mattresses horrific! The only decent kip I’ve ever had on an NHS squeaky-sweaty-bum special was monstrous-dose-of-pethidine induced. Next time, I take my bloody airbed with me. I’ve had more restful nights camping in the middle of a horde of sex-mad and shitting hedgehogs. (Seriously: anyone think their partner is snuffly, farty, randy and damn annoying at night? Or, and this is a long shot, flea-ridden? Go camp in hedgehog territory. It’s a revelation. Your partner will subsequently seem a idyllic sleep companion.)

    Why do they need to savagely inflate the BP machines to 1000 psi?! I think I must have particularly wimpy flab on my arms that doesn’t like being pinched.

    Wincing in sympathy about the hand IV too. Them buggers Really Hurt. The pain from the hand they ballsed up, and then the hand they eventually shoved a drainage pipe into, was an appreciable ouch-factor during my entire labour. It took a whole crowning head to finally obliterate my awareness of Owwww my pooooor fucking haaannnnnds. The NICU staff all thought I was wringing my hands the following week, but I was actually rubbing the bruised veins.

    In short, May, you’ve taken some horrible beatings this last fortnight. And what you actually deserved was something very, very different. The miserable fact of a miscarriage is tough enough to cope with, but when you’re then required to suffer an added layer of minor (and not so minor) irritations and moronic personnel, it all adds up to a multiplicity of total crap. I am so very sorry about it all. I sincerely hope that the next few days will bring some healing peace and quiet, and that the wellness status rapidly rises from roadkill to basking-in-sun-with-good-book.

    Ann xxx

    PS. H is indeed lovely, and writes a damn good post to boot! Perhaps you ought to give him a monthly Guest Spot?!

  • A Soldier's Girl

    I am glad that you are finally at home. I will keep you and your sweet H in my thoughts & prayers.


  • Kelly D

    Boy, I can relate. I remember my hospital experience too. I was so tired of people waking me up in the middle of the night. One nurse woke me up to go to the restroom – I wanted to shoot her. Glad to hear you are back home and on the road to recovery.

    Here from NCLM.

  • ramblingsbyreba

    I’m glad you’re back. And H is awesome. 🙂

  • Heather

    Yes, H is lovely but I knew it would have to be someone wonderful to be your partner.

    I’m so glad you are home. I don’t know how anyone gets better in hospitals when they don’t let you rest at all. Hope you get some good rest.

    Thinking of you.

  • megan

    oh goodness, i’m just reading all of this.
    i’m so sorry to hear you had complications. what a nightmare.
    i’m so glad to hear you’re doing okay and are home. H is a dear — i’m glad you have him.
    i hope you are sleeping well in your own bed.
    thinking of you.

  • Jackie

    May, I hope you will be on the mend soon. This sounds like an awful, terrible ordeal…I’m so glad you are home where you can get a bit of peace and quiet. Take care, sweetie.

  • Robyn

    Glad you’re home. Yaay for own bed sleeping! And yes, H is clearly a gem.

    Healing wishes to both of you.

  • geohde

    Yep, hospital mattresses are just awful…..but not as unspeakably horrifying as they WOULD be without the nasty cover stopping goodness-knows-what seeping into the fabric of the thing.

    Glad you’re home, hope the roadkill status gets an upgrade soon


  • Pepper

    Oh, what a nightmare! I’m so glad you’re safe and comfortable at home. So the infection is in your arm? Likely caused by the silly nurse who didn’t properly remove your thingiemabobber? Sigh …

    P.S. H is awesome. Definitely a keeper, that one.

  • Aphra Behn

    So glad you’re home, May, and yes, H is wonderful. An assortment of internet wierdos send you both their love, by the way.

    Hairy Farmer Family – you are SO right about hedgehogs. How can anything the size of a small bunny make so much noise that you think just one of them is at least three foraging pigs?


  • deanna

    So very glad to hear you’re back home. Wishing you a purely sound-proof bedroom and many hours of blissful sleep.

    H. is adorable. He’s my favorite English Husband hands-down.

  • chicklet

    I like that you can take something so dreadful and still make it entertainingly bitter – and not bitter in a bad way, bitter in the “didn’t that f*g suck and am I glad to be outta there” way.

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