This could very well be my last day here in the hospital. That would be fantastic, you know. I'm not sure what will happen tomorrow, though. I may go home to resume all activity, or maybe I'll go home for more bed rest. If it's the bed rest thing, I'm going to stay in the same place I spent my high school years, simply because everything is on one floor. Or maybe I'll stay here on total bed rest still. Or stay, but with "bathroom privileges." Really no idea.
Today has been a rough one as far as feeling just... crummy. I ache everywhere - all my muscles and joints. My head is pounding, stomach rolling. Foot has gone completely numb to the touch, but still feels constant pins and needles. Donor site is super sore - had to rip the bandage away so it isn't getting brushed, and even then... my skin twitches and it almost makes me yelp.
Yes, I used the word yelp.
Have been being a jerk today as far as company goes - haven't wanted any. A friend who works here stopped in, and it was good to see her, but... over all, I want to be alone. Completely left to my own devices and quiet and peace.
I have to figure out supper, and to be honest... I think I just want oatmeal and strawberries and yogurt and bacon. Not a typical "supper" but it's about the only thing that doesn't turn my stomach at the mere thought of eating it.
There is also that hot fudge and marshmallow sundae down the hall in the freezer for me. But that's not "healing food," it's just yummy.
The nurse just came in and did a "mental health assessment." She doesn't seem to know what to do with the answers I gave her (honest answers). Is it really that unusual for a patient to come in with PTSD and also be in the middle of some serious depression?? Here's to hoping she doesn't page some random on-call person for me to talk to. Blech - who really wants a stranger to talk to, ya know?
Prayer requests today - I don't want to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary. I don't want these aches and sweats and chills and new pain and new numbness to mean anything actually bad. That this is just a normal healing progression. Otherwise, I'll check back in tomorrow and let you all know the verdict - home, here, what can I do, all that jazz.
I am a Christian. I am a wife. I am a daughter. I am a friend. I have babies in heaven. I take pictures. Love to write. I strive to show compassion.
Derek is also a Christian. He is a husband - to me. An amazing husband. He loves intensely. Laughs freely. He is strong. I am amazed when I consider that he chose ME. I love him. He loves me.
This is my Gramma. Eileen. Of everyone I have ever known, she is the one I desire to be like. She was wildly compassionate. Generous. A woman of integrity. Goofy. Cute. My hero. She is in Heaven.
Bayleigh is intense. She is small. She is beautiful. Sweet. Wild. Mischevious without limits. And she chirps.
Furbis is the epitome of catness. He is handsome. Big. Sweet. Dangerously intelligent. Strong. He breaks things. And talks.
Calliah is special. Furbis chose her. She is sweet. Not very smart. Funny. Pretty. Puts her toys in water. And the more she loves you, the harder she bites.
Izzy is super sweet. She's pretty. Passionate about playing. She licks things. She doesn't talk much. Snuggles a lot. And sleeps on my head.
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