hospital

Talking to nurses about pain

While laying in the hospital bed after my recent surgery, a young nurse came into my room and asked what my pain level was, on a range from zero to ten.

I replied that it wasn’t bad at all, maybe a one or two at most, and I didn’t need any pain medicine.

She said that was great. She said that a lot of people immediately say they’re at a nine or ten.

I replied that I’d never say anything that high, I always thought a nine or ten should be saved for something really bad, like if you were just stabbed or shot.

She said, “I know, right. Or maybe broken bones ... or a heart attack.” She paused and then said, “Lately I’ve been wondering if giving birth is a 9 or 10.”

Consuming edible marijuana products can lead to repeated and severe bouts of vomiting

Several times when I’ve told people in Colorado that I have mast cell disease, they’ve replied, “Have you tried marijuana for that?”

In what might be a related story, one time I went to the ER and a young man there was vomiting extremely loudly and repeatedly into a large bucket. I initially didn’t know what was going on and sat down near him, but once he started vomiting I got up and moved away from him, as everyone else had already done. I recall hearing someone say that he had been there before for the same problem.

I say that it might be related because a few days ago I read that consuming edible marijuana products can lead to “repeated and severe bouts of vomiting,” a condition known as cannabinoid hyperemesis. From what I know, people consume edible products, don’t feel anything immediately, so then they consume some more, etc. Apparently it takes time for consumables to kick in, so when they do, people find out the hard way that they’ve consumed too much. I was just reminded of all that when reading this UCHealth story.

If I had a bat, I’d rage on this wall

Being an older person, I find young people interesting. One night when I was in the hospital last week I was supposed to be asleep, but couldn’t sleep, and I heard a nurse’s assistant who is still in college say, “If I had a bat, I’d rage on this wall.” That’s definitely not a phrase an older person would use.

Got a flush letter from a local hospital

August 15, 2011, Palmer, Alaska: I just got a flush letter from a local hospital. I guess I shouldn’t have put “You have my gallbladder” and “Your nurses seem really nice” as my top reasons for wanting to work there.

My colectomy (colon resection) experience (recovery, diet)

“I’m going to have to resect the colon.”

~ pretty much every surgeon on M*A*S*H at some point

In late June, 2018, I had to have a colectomy surgery, which is also known as a colon resection. Here’s a diary of my experience.

Back home following surgery (July 3, 2018)

As a brief update, I’m home from the hospital following my surgery last week. I’m not back to writing any software or books, but hopefully I’ll start getting back to work next week.

It’s a Wonderful Life meets St. Elsewhere

Introduction: After a long hiatus, during the last week I finally got back into a consistent meditation routine. As usual, this helps me remember my dreams better, and to also have lucid dreams. Last night that combined with something else I had thought about casually recently: Wouldn’t it be nice to be young again, and if I was young again, what would I do differently?

Waking up in a hospital

I wake up at 3:40am, hearing something dripping. I follow the sound around the new apartment until I find that it’s coming from the refrigerator. Looking around, I don’t see any water on the floor, inside the refrigerator compartment, or in the freezer. My guess is that this is what it sounds like when it defrosts. I have a sip of water and go back to bed.

I wake up some time later. It’s bright, so I don’t want to open my eyes. I’m enjoying a comfortable rest, and the pillow and sheets smell fresh and clean.

Wait.

Why is it so bright? I haven’t been here long, but I know that the Sun rises on the other side of the building, and my bedroom only get indirect light in the morning.

Without moving my body, I open my eyes and look around. I see enough to know that I’m in a hospital.