Patients

Being in a hospital is weird.  No...being a patient in a hospital is weird.  My whole world is reduced to a very small white sterile thing.  It's a series of small events that become huge.  Milestones to look forward to every day.  I joked yesterday that my whole day revolves around mealtimes.  8, 12, 5.  The food is miserable, but it's still one of the more interesting things to happen.  Other things I look forward to are my shower at night, the 'changing of the guard' when I get to meet my new nurse for the day/night.  I've been here long enough to develop favorite nurses.

The big thing is people.  Having people here is a weird thing, too.  On one hand, I fucking deliriously love seeing a familiar face walking through my door.  On the other hand, I feel and look like shit, so there's an element of being self conscious, like I have to be "on" for them.  When I was on the morphine and Dilaudid, it was extremely difficult, but now that I'm clean and sober, so to speak, it's easier.  When I'm at my best, long exposure to most people exhaust me.  Irv is an easy presence, he's the exception.  He can chill and read the paper or watch TV all day, not needing small talk, or to fuss. Luiz is uneasy here, and yesterday with him sitting around all day, plus Alden, I felt a little claustrophobic.   Jake came to visit, and I was so happy to see him, but that was one of those bad nights, blurry with pain meds and pain, I don't remember a whole lot.  When my mother is here, she fusses, she hassles the nurses, but she's a professional visitor, so if I need something, she gets it...in spades.

I like walking around the hallway, but since I wear street clothes, the nurses think I'm gonna bolt. I joke with them, but I'm seriously not.  I know why I'm here.

That's another thing.  I'm *here*.  It sunk in last night.  Tuesday was a morphine blur.  Yesterday was a giant hang over, but sort of a day to let it all soak in.  I didn't have much stuff here, clothes or recreational stuff.  Last night, though...Irv left around 10, and it was teary.  Just thinking about it, I'm all teary.  He goes home, sleeps in our bed.  I stay here and don't sleep.  But it doesn't look like I'm going home soon...and by soon I mean tomorrow.  There's a weird level of acceptance, where I'm like, yeah, I need clothes...yeah I need my toiletries...fuck, I need my netbook.