Day 40

A lot has happened fast. Kidneys finally back to normal. Infections on the cusp of defeat if not defeated. Feeling in lower body much returned. I'm able to do a tiny bit of walking using a walker and plenty of arm strength.

Perhaps I'll remain in acute care another couple weeks and then perhaps a step down to the therapy-oriented complex care ward. We'll see.

Day 38

Was woken at 5 AM for a bum swab. They do bum swabs once every 10 days or so; a frequency that doesn't seem so tight it must be done at exactly 5 AM. Are bum swabs only reliable if the patient is groggy and irritable? That must be it.

Fuckers.

Day 36

Today I called nurse Jasmine "Pinky" instead of Jasmine. Both Pinky and Jasmine are nurses I rarely see.

"I'm Jasmine!" said Jasmine (who is East Asian). "Pinky is Indian!" She thinks I've confused their ethnicities. I haven't. I confused their names because Pinky and Jasmine have the same flavour to me; the same vibrancy.

Loose ends

After a three-week run if antibiotics we're waiting and watching to see if it continues clearing up on its own. Either way the skin is a long way from healing and I'm a long way from losing the uncomfortable daily dressings.

The kidneys remain close to fully recovered. My blood sugar is tame. They've ceased my daily bloodwork for now, thank goodness, because without the dialysis line in my neck anymore, the nurses have to jab me looking for my super secret veins and often fail, even repeatedly and my anxiety leaps about ten levels every time they fail and have to stab again.

The shooting neuropathic pains in my left leg have calmed down thanks to meds and the strategic use of pillows. Sitting up straight is painful though, on my sore ass, so I type this lying back which is a figurative pain in the ass. It makes me resistant to doing serious work on my laptop which leads to too much movie watching and restlessness. Having visitors was the only uncomplicated sanity-making activity and I was very lucky for a time. Dog Whisperer, Earth Writer, The Healer, LaxMastermind, JV, Grandpa Munster... the Earnest Chef and his partner came and brought me a nice brand new pen. Chess Champ has been twice as has the Illicit Sweetheart whom I hadn't seen in years and Aqualad who got my laptop charged for me! Professor Plonk and Captain Vino came for a long stay filled with laughs.

Mom has been many times but has settled into a once-a-week slot. I won't lie. I'm getting lonely now. A couple of young volunteers have dropped in and were happy to stay and chat for a while but company is drying out. I'm restless.

Heroes and villains

So they're calling the Dallas Stars vet-rookie pairing Joe Pavelski and Wyatt Johnston the Batman and Robin of the NHL.

I'm okay with that as long as we agree that teammate Max Domi is the Penguin.

Don't cry for Cry Macho...

... Just avoid it.

Cry Macho (2021)

More Clint Eastwood-directed weirdness concerning a thousand year-old zombie cowboy (Eastwood) and his road trip with a supposedly street-hardened abused youth with a dazzlingly incongruent gee-whiz demeanor played by some kid whose acting career Eastwood has destroyed with this 104-minute senior moment. 

Natalia Traven plays the charming necrophile love-interest. 

I watched it til the end in case there was a prize. Nope.

Clown therapy

So the Respiratory Therapists installed a machine to monitor my CPAP and I for oxygen levels while I sleep. Problem is, how the hell do I sleep when the damn thing keeps going into alarm mode constantly and I have to silence it?

In the morning they pick it up and ask how it went. I told them next time just hire a clown to march into my room every twenty minutes, jab me in the ribs and say, "HOW YA SLEEPING?!?!?!"