#Bionic man 2.7. Tuesday, April 5, 2016. Much more coherent today. Cut the oxycodone in half. Will cut it in half again tomorrow. Yet I had my first really hardcore physical therapy sessions. Painful at first, but the more my muscles and tendons were stretched the less pain I felt. Bodes well for tomorrow.
Received word that I’m going home on Sunday. Will be glad to be out of an institutional setting. When I was “unplugged” Saturday, I urgently wanted to do things for myself. Which I started to do shortly after my arrival on Saturday afternoon, when my nurse left me unattended in a wheelchair for long stretches of time. By that evening when one of the nursing assistants came to “tuck me in,” he’d already heard that I was “independent.” It was not a compliment.
On Sunday I heard for the first time that doctor’s orders were that I was not allowed to get in or out of bed without someone present to help/monitor me. This was when a nurse came to my room to advise that I had been seen going into the bathroom on my own. I just decided to be more careful about being seen and by whom.
As to changing the doctor’s orders, I keep getting the run around. The nurse tells me to ask the physical therapist to speak to the doctor; the physical therapist says to ask the nurse to do so. Doctor B says he only has authority over internal medicine issues and that I should talk with Doctor T, who has been nowhere to be found since his Sunday morning visit.
At least “doctor’s orders” about oxycodone make their distribution dependent on what I specifically request. What happened yesterday came about because I was not clear about what I wanted. The resulting condition meant that I slept through and didn’t watch any TV last night, including the men’s basketball final. Tonight I will be awake at least for the start of the women’s final game for the NCAA basketball championship. Syracuse women will be playing tonight. This morning one of the young therapists came up to me and said “Don’t you know it’s over already.” At first I didn’t know what she was talking about. She pointed to my Syracuse long-sleeved tee. I said, “It’s not over until it’s over. Go Orange!”