Well obviously I did breathe. How do I know this? Because I’m here writing this blog. duh.
Seriously, I apparently was having some difficulty coming to and had stopped breathing a few times. Probably from the anesthesia. So the first time I stopped this nurse was trying her best to get me going again. Luckily I did start breathing but only long enough to satisfy myself that this bitch was not going to climb back on top of me. I never did get into being boarded by a woman. Now if the nurse had been a hot guy I might have drug it out a little longer. But I was a good boy and breathed like she told me. At least at first.
The second time I stopped breathing I don’t remember. I do remember waking up with something cold being blown in my face. It was an oxygen mask. They had placed it on me after I refused to keep breathing correctly. (Turns out I might have a bit of sleep apnea). So this was there way to help me get my oxygen levels up I guess.
The recovery area was a hub of people all seeming to have a different job to do. One of them was there just to check my vitals and push drugs. THANK YOU, YOU SWEET WOMAN. Another was to keep an eye on my breathing and another was there, well I suppose, just to find out what the other two wanted for lunch. That seemed to be all she was interested in. So much for me to interrupt. So I just went back to sleep.
I woke up the next time in the ICU. My wounds had caused me to lose quite a bit of blood but more than that Shaniqua had gutted me like a fish. She had cut my intestines which caused yucky stuff to ooze out. Apparently when you ooze yucky stuff it can cause lots of problems. So they kept me in ICU for a couple days to make sure I didn’t get an infection or that the yucky stuff didn’t settle somewhere and do something bad. As you can tell I’m not a doctor and I don’t have a clue what they really told me, but the nurse dumbed it down for me and called it “yucky stuff” and said it could “do something bad”. I understood that explanation.
I was then transferred to a regular room for another two days when I didn’t die in ICU. I do however think that some of the ICU nurses were a bit upset at the fact that I survived and didn’t give them a reason to call CODE BLUE ICU or whatever else such nonsense. My room was the typical hospital room I suppose. I had never been in the hospital before so I don’t know how to compare it other than what I have seen on TV. It was very much like Charlotte’s room in Sex and the City: The Movie except bigger. Which leads me to believe that I’m a bigger star than she is. Of course I didn’t shit my pants like she did so maybe that is why I got a better room.
Well they decided to let me go after 4 days in the hospital. They let me leave with one of my friends which I found a little odd. I could have just pointed to someone in the parking lot and said “yeah, he’s here to pick me up” and they would have let me go with them. But alas it was my friend and I had him drive me home. He stayed with me and played nursemaid since I don’t have a spouse to take care of me. Between him and Justin I was well taken care of. After a good day in bed, I was restless and wanted to get up and at least walk around my apartment for awhile. The glory of Percoset allowed me the ability to do just that.
I got up, walked into the bathroom and saw this in the mirror:
to be continued…