Back in Again

Here I am in the hospital again! I guess I had enough time to relax and get back on my feet before they sucked me back in, because four days into my stay I am feeling fine still with no major unpleasantness. This time I am here for a different reason. Chemo. They are giving me the highest dose allowed of this current kind, so I must be on close supervision in case I need a blood transfusion or anything. In fact I may be getting one of those today. If all of this med-speak is boring you please tell me so in the comments section. I just don't know what people like to hear. Grey's Anatomy probably makes this stuff more interesting than I do.

I have had a succession of relatives come visit from far-away places over the last few weeks, and it's been really nice to see them. I get kind of lonely I guess, especially at home. My mobility has been even more limited as of late, so even leaving the house for a trip anywhere like the grocery store has been a much bigger deal, usually meaning no deal. I have my own wheelchair now, haven't used it much. I never thought I would have to be one of the users of those long ramps at the movie theater and other places. I am right on the edge now. I can make it on the crutches, but it's at a snails pace so those with me must be patient.

I have been flattered by the people who have read this blog and sent me positive feedback. I think there have been three such responses, and they mean a lot. When writing I feel like I need to know they target audience before I start, but with this there is no target audience at all. A different dynamic, and I must admit a liberating one. It's just me being me guys. I don't care who you are. This is me and you can react with who you are. And I hope you do. And not just towards me.

I just started reading Stephen Colbert's book I Am America (And So Can You!) It's so hilarious, and I'm only a few pages into it. He makes the ridiculous sound plausible, then ends with a truth that makes it even more ridiculous. We shall see. It's like his show, but about issues in general.

I get about 20 visits from various doctors and other personnel every day in my room here. I have to wake up early so they don't have to talk to me in bed. It's not that bad, really. All of the attention makes me feel important, and when I am discharged and go home, there is kind of a vacuum of contact that doesn't get filled. I will try to do something about that this time. Arrange to see some friends or something.

I hope you enjoyed what you read. Maybe in a few more days I will have another swath of golden information for your hungry hears. Till then, good night and try harder.

Hospital Blues

Hello, Universe. On this fine day I hail from a hospital room, luxurious enough to have internet access and a fold-out bed for one of my parents. As a warning, I have a feeling this blog post will remind you of a book that people recommended you to read but the author seemed so idiotic and scatterbrained you secretively stopped reading a chapter into it and just smiled and nodded when asked about it. That said, lets get into it. The hospital rooms here are really quite nice. They have a dresser, closet to hang stuff up, a bed that electronically changes shape to conform to your body position for maximum comfort. I can tell they put a lot of thought, but as little money as possible, into these rooms. What do you expect, state hospital. There is a large window in every room which usually looks out over a magnificent skyline of the Medical Center here in Houston. The nurses come within five minutes of being summoned by a remote-control type device right by my bed. Food is delivered "In 45 Minutes Or Less." Taking a walk outside is also very easy to do, because the patient-related facilities of the hospital basically cover one side, a few rooms deep, of the complex. So a short elevator ride down and you are but a few steps from the "rose garden," a favorite of ours for stretching legs and getting some sun. Weekdays are extremely crowded in the halls and waiting rooms, reflecting a statistic I heard once that said they had five thousand appointments scheduled each day. But being an inpatient has its perks because on the weekend the place is a ghost town. No one in any of the usual spots. Pick any chair you want. No looking both ways before crossing the drive. Maybe it's my introversion, but it's just a magical time for me.

What this turned out as looks like I am actually capable of concentrating mostly on something outside of my body. It's comforting to know that, because I'm afraid almost all of my interest is consumed by myself and my experience. Call it selfish. Why did I have to write this last paragraph? To flip me back to my usual self. Ahh that's better. I'm a psychology major but I think they are going to rob me of my intuitive understandings of the mind and replace it with universal garbage. If anyone has advice, please leave a comment. I think you can sign in with your gmail name. The next post will follow a more sane thought process. I hope.