Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Sometimes all you need is a good vent.

Today was a somewhat subdued day, though from all the noise outside my room at 6:30 this morning, I expected something different. It was both bright and sunny and bitter cold when I finally got up around ten.

I didn't get my morning pain killers on time this morning because the nurse on duty, Gloria (I think) was running around like a headless chicken. She always seems like she's overwhelmed by everything. I think if someone asked "How are you doing?" it would throw her into a panic, as if she was being pressured to answer.

So the usual early morning Tuesday rounds with all the head nurses did not happen, which is probably best for Tumani, because when I woke up this morning I was still upset about our fight. Had I vented in front of them, instead of a different nurse, Tumani could have easily been fired. These ladies have that power.

But instead I vented to Nicole, the wound care nurse who changes my bandages everyday. She was appalled at what Tumani had done, or not done, and she encouraged me to go complain to thr Nurse Manager. She was in a meeting, I ws told, but she should be back any minute. I waited about five minutes before I gave up nd decided to leave and come back.

Later I ran into Dames and Tijon, who new what had happened. Tijon told me he had talked to Tumani to set him right. He told me Tumani was apologetic, that he did not understand what I was trying to tell him.

I thought about it and decided that was fair. I had been in a panic last night and I might not have been making sense. Being hopped up on pain killers all day can make it difficult to be understood in an emergency. So I dropped it and I'll move on. I know what he did. He knws what he did, and three of his peers know what he did. That's enough.

I had lunch with Todd at the Black Pearl. He bought me a big bag of Chinese food that I can eat for a few days. We talked about what I wanted to do on my birthday and I thnk we will try to get everyone to go to Pazzo's on January 31 (Saturday).

After lunch I had an hour of occupational therapy with Joyce. I played the Wii for a half hour. I bowled three games, all over 200 points. I played nine holes of golf, shooting a four under par (one less than my record). Then I lifted weights and did some isometric stretching for the other half hour. I had a quick session with Lamin and we compared the most corrupt American politicians versus the most corrupt politicians in Africa. As bad as our politicians are, none of them, as far as we know, had anyone killed, and except for Boss Tweed (if you adjust for inflation) no American politician has robbed the country of billions of dollars. Say what yo will about America, but we never produced people like Mobuto Sese Seko of Zaire, who stole as much as five billion dollars, coincidently the amount of Zaire's national debt.

Next was an hour of physical therapy. Brigit's last day is tomorrow and I hope that there won't be so much snow she can't make it to work to say goodbye. I will miss her, but I sent her an email with my blog address so maybe she will keep in touch. I will keep working with Z and Tobey after she leaves. There is a new physical therapist, Arthur, who seems nice and capable. I have been observing his work with both Danny and Earl, my roommate for two weeks prior to my heart attack. Arthur seems to be someone I can work with and we talked for about ten minutes before I called it a day. (I might have over did it on the stationary bike because my legs ached when I was in the standing frame and I was only able to stand for about five minutes.)

I turned down the opportunity to move in to another room, though I may regret it. I know the guy I would have roomed with and it would probably have been O.K., but I figured, "Why should I have to move?" I have been in this nursing home for over a year, the last eight weeks in this bed. Why not move my the new guy? Just because I am not demented annd won;t throw a fit doesn't mean I have to give in on everything. But he smells of stale cigarrettes and my sinuses are killing me whenever he is in the room, and he leaves the door open when he goes to the bathroom, which is fine if you live alone. And if the guy is old enough to smoke he should be old enough to know you shut the fucking bathroom door, especially when you are taking a dump. I'll stick it out for a little while longer unless it becomes unbearable, but maybe this will help motivate me to get the hell out of here.

It's 7:30 and I am pretty beat. I might work on a crossword puzzle while NCIS or House play in the background and then I'll call it a night. The news say we might get as little as a trace but as much as half a foot of snow before I wake up tomorrow. If it does I will take a picture.

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