#Bionic Man 2.5. Saturday, April 2, 2016. If Eric Clapton, Paul McCartney, and the Rolling Stones can release unplugged music, I can unplug from Princeton Hospital. While I was in bed at the hospital I was tethered to an alarm, which would ring loudly and announce “Do not get up! Stay in your seat” over and over again. Sometimes the nurse set the tether too short and I would set off the alarm if I merely turned in place to greet someone. Most of the times the tether allowed reasonable movement, but I was always conscious of these restraints. I didn’t fret about them, but by today I was ready to go.
Gale took me from the hospital to St. Lawrence Rehab about 11 am. We had to wait a while for my room to be cleaned, but I’ve been here about three hours now, played a few hands of rummy with Gale, had lunch, filled out numerous forms, stripped for an complete evaluation of my skin, and been weighed. Damn! Didn’t lose any weight during the surgery.
My room number is 523. I won’t have any therapy until Monday so I’ll have to continue the hospital exercises in the meantime. I don’t want to slack off and suffer all the more when therapy does start.
When the nurse was doing my skin evaluation, she noted the site of my drain on the back of the left thigh. I tried to whine about how the PA just yanked it out. She said, “That’s the way to do it.” I told you this place was hardcore.
When I was able to hook into the center’s wifi, I received an email informing me that Patricia Burns my childhood friend never woke up after brain surgery and died yesterday. She gave the world much beauty and love. Don’t have the words to say anything more.