Looking Out The Window

My days in here are tedious, long hours spent mostly sleeping or watching Netflix on my laptop. I am so grateful for the technology which allows me to escape the desert wasteland of commercial TV, especially the major broadcasters. At least the hours I fill, I fill with something I want to watch instead of forced reruns of bad sitcoms and poorly written television drama. Still, there is only so much distraction one can take.

The medication process has become routine, closely matching my life at home, with pills in the morning and pills in the evening, along with injections of antibiotics into my IV once a day. I've not had a bowel movement for several days now, so we have added Metamucil and a laxitive to my daily routine as of yesterday. I, along with all the hospital staff and doctors, am hoping for results in the near term. Personally I think my bowels have gone on strike, in opposition to the indignity of the expectation that I should fill a diaper rather than go to the toilet on the commode chair. The nurses and staff are having trouble with the chair, and would rather clean me up than make the transfer.

On the upside, the lady in the bed next to me has been moved. Her departure means it is possible for me to move next to the window, a highlight for me. She has had a serious stroke and I suspect she has been moved to some sort of long term or rehabilitation setting. For the first time since getting into the hospital, I can see the outside world, a true bit of joy for me. Once again I get to see the outside world, to know that my existence extends beyond my curtained space.

Since it is Saturday today, I am expecting any number of visitors. I have declined to go into my wheelchair for the moment, hoping to leave that seat for guests. Once things settle down, I will likely get in the chair, perhaps later in the afternoon, and head down to the Good Earth Coffee Shop in the lobby for a coffee and date square.

Then comes Sunday, then the rest of the week until Friday. It is what must be done.