I returned home last evening after my first trip to the ER and hospital stay of the new year. I haven't been eating or sleeping well for several months. I have lost a lot of weight, I was weak, dehydrated, and was struggling. Last Wednesday, my wife and son rushed me to the ER because I could feel my body shutting down.
I don't remember any of the intake process or being transferred to a room, but I woke up to the usual assortment of tubes coming out of my body and beeping medical equipment. After five days I was stable enough to be discharged. I did okay last night, and so far I am resting comfortably this morning, but there's a long way to go. I have a home health nurse coming in at noon today, and of course my son is here taking care of me.
Now, I am going to relate one very off color story here, so if you think you may be offended, or easily grossed out, STOP reading.
It was interesting to be in a medical facility during this time because, without exception, there were no Trump fans in the house. Friday morning, which I had the duty nurse write-in on my room whiteboard as Black Friday, I had the inaugural on in the background.
Do purely to the nurses' rotation schedule, they came in to work on me as the high officials arrived at the Capitol. Part of the routine was for the nurses to administer a suppository and get me on a bedside commode. They left me with the call button and gave me a little privacy. I sat and watched the proceedings.
The nurses had been giving me something called a brown bomber - a concoction of prune juice, orange juice, and milk of magnesia. As the president-elect approached the podium, I could feel the deep grumblings and pressure build, and as he placed his hand on the bible and began to repeat the oath, I let loose (the operative word being 'loose').
I took a Trump dump. It was satisfying on many levels.
P.S. I won't even mention my Hail to the Chief sonata.
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