On the Eclipse

There were three unsuccessful attempts to put a new IV in me yesterday. All of them painful in a “this-would-be-less-painful-if-it-worked” sort of way. The successful attempt was at about 10 PM just as I had been about to settle in for the night. It was immediately followed by a dose of IV antibiotics which I knew from previous experience would take about an hour to be injected at which time the device would start beeping. So I watched an episode of Archer then one of Connections. Sure enough, the machine started beeping at about the time I’d expected. What I didn’t expect was that it would take at least forty or sixty minutes for a nurse to be available to press the right buttons and unplug me from the IV. That is forty to sixty minutes of the wretched machine going beep-bleep every fifteen seconds.

This is relevant as it factors into more joyful events. I awoke, had breakfast and physio, then got dressed for the first time since the operation. A phone call to Saint-Michael the Holy Mole managed to convince him to come up the hill to escort me out to watch the Eclipse. He had been going to watch it with a much more mobile cousin. I also had a nice chat with my hospital GP doctor in which I expressed how upset I had been without my antidepressants.

After lunch, I used the facilities for the first time since the operation (FTFTSTO). I also put in my contact lenses (also FTFTSTO). Shortly before Michael arrived, a male nurse came by with large syringes that I recognized as being antibiotic related. We discussed the timing of events as it was getting close to H-Hour for the Eclipse. He assured me that it would be done in time for the Eclipse, which he also wanted to see. As Michael came in, I jokingly swore that I would hold the nurse to that promise or else I would get Michael to kill him.

True to his word, the antibiotics were in at an appropriate time. The nurse prompted disconnected me from the IV and hung the nerve block drip from one of the handles of my wheelchair for easy wheeling.

(I fear I must digress about the nerve block drip. Since the operation, there is has been a drip going into my left leg to numb the nerves from the pain caused by what the doctors did to repair the damage driver did. It is quieter than the IV drip for antibiotics. More on it later.)

Michael and I headed down in the elevator to the 6th floor, a.k.a. the Cedar Avenue entrance. Two older men got on and asked if the sixth floor was the one they wanted. Noticing that one of them had a pair of Eclipse glasses in his hand, I said: “Yes, assuming that you both are going to that,” indicating the glasses. There was small crowd outside. I parked the wheelchair upwind of some smokers and put on the glasses. The Sun was already about halfway covered, though you would barely know it from the apparent sunlight. We sat, chatted and watched as the light grew dimmer and it felt colder. Totality was reached as the crowd cheered and the World became a spookier place for a couple of minutes, before the Sun returned.* 

Street lights have come on

Saint-Michael the Holy Mole flabbergasted by the Eclipse

We watched for a few minutes more then went back it. As we approached the atrium, I noticed an older woman on a mobility scooter coming from inside the hospital. Something about her body language indicated that she hadn’t known about the Eclipse. In the atrium, my suspicions were confirmed, so I offered her my Eclipse glasses so she might see the remainder of the event. (The Sun was still about three-quarters covered.) 

Thank you, Saint-Michael the Holy Mole.

As people are interested in my medical condition, I will fill you in on some more news. The doctors were worried about the bone being infected, so when they extracted the original external fixations and some other bits, they took tissue and blood samples to see if there were any nasty bugs in them. So far, the cultures have come back negative which is good news, suggesting they might stop with the antibiotics. As well, tomorrow they will try taking me off the nerve blocker at 6 AM. The male nurse said that if all was well at 12, then they would take out the line. Any doctors, nurses or orderlies (current or future) should pay attention to this next bit. I called him back for clarification. Did he mean 12 noon or 12 midnight? I thought the timing sufficiently important that I illustrated my confirmation by saying: “So if I haven’t killed someone because of the pain by noon, you will remove the nerve block line?” He was a good sport about my exaggeration of the violence my pain might cause, even before I apologized.

*Mummy has claimed that it was because they had sacrificed a goat. I’ll take a photograph or homemade goat curry as proof. **

** Addendum: It turns out Mummy was lying about having sacrificed a goat.