"There are good and bad days, you are just having a bad day," she explains.
"There are no bad days," I report.
My tears start coming and they don't stop and she leaves and I am sitting up and sobbing. I don't panic. Just curious about the melt down. It started coming on last night when I caught a glimpse of me in the window as the lights outside started to fade. Bald headed lady. Hospital beds since November. This is my third hospital. I've been in this one for 26 or 27 days. Who is counting? One nurse comes in a tells me that my full time job is managing my mucus. Watching my sluffed off cells travel past the suction wand into waste container is not gainful employment. I think there has got to be something worse than "it's all about me." That worse is "it's all about my body."
So, I come to the point where I can't take it one more day or one more minute. I push the nurse call button.
She comes in.
"I have a really big favor to ask you." I wait until she is in front of me because I really need eye contact. "You are going to have to open your mind, I preface." She waits.
"I want you to take this bed out of here. It is really important to me that I am not defined by this bed another minute and I really need this bed out of here."
"I'll have to ask the charge nurse," she explains and leaves. And, I'm knowing by now that if they can't get the bed out of here I'm out of here and wondering where I might sit out today since it is a locked ward. She returns and says "can do." "I want you to have a good day," she said. Tech support arrives. I watch the bed rolled into the hall. I told them it would just be for an hour or two but I'm not calling for that bed until it is time to sleep -- regular time to sleep, not sleep all day and then try to sleep all night time to sleep. The seductive centerpiece proclaiming me a sick person is gone. The bed is not my friend and it is banished out of this place and I'm sitting up with my clothes on and I'm blogging. The nutritionist comes in and says that she heard I want to start eating again but she says I have to start with liquids only for a few days and we will over lap with the TPN. The doctor comes in and he likes the new room look. "You are giving me some good ideas," he says. "I have some patients that I need to make a doctor's order to move the bed out of the room." One of the other doctors on the team says "you have enough room for dancing. Before they leave, I ask her to wait . "You had a good idea. Lets do it." I get up and put my arms out and we dance a few steps until I can sit down again. My counts are not in. I have not engrafted but we are doing this thing. Thank you Jesus.