Valentines Day. To celebrate, Nurse Sarah takes my catheter out! This is the exciting one (the urinary catheter). The curtain is closed across the doorway, my frock is unceremoniously drawn up practically to my armpits and the Interrogation Light is beaming with glee down upon my privates. Now, Sarah is no toothless hag by any means. She is young and sweet, which makes my embarrassment even more acute. By the time she yanks (yes men, gasp and shudder along with me here…) the catheter out, I have no bashfulness left. There is just nothing else that could equate with this particular procedure!
Since I left the ICU, the docs have been gradually weaning me down from the intravenous pain medication delivered via the epidural. Today, they have the nurses remove my last chest tube (hurray!) and then the epidural itself. This now leaves me strictly on oral pain meds (narcotics). Over the last few days, the nurses would ask me how my pain level was, on a scale of one to ten. I dunno – I have no idea what a “10” would be, as I’ve been fortunate enough so far in life not to have experienced much in the way of what I consider to be serious pain. So, I pick a number and they oblige with what they believe to be an appropriate pill. Soon, I am able to just tell them how many milligrams I want, and when. I’m well within the “boundaries” of appropriate medical practice, so they’re not worried. I, on the other hand, am anxious to get off the narcotics as soon as possible.
Dr. Yee pops in and is pleased enough with my progress to tell me I can probably go home next Friday. Imagine! Only 2 weeks in hospital? Can it be?
Oh, and that night? I find out what pain is…..
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