I was very appreciative that Pastor Mark came by again today. We always have a good time visiting. While he was here, he asked: “Do you know when you are going some?” My reply has become the usual one these days: “The doc says maybe tomorrow.” Ha! Ha! Ha! He had the perfect come back. He said it is kinda like the Eagles song Hotel California. It says “You can check out any time you like. You just can never leave!” How very appropriate that is for what the docs say every day… “Maybe tomorrow???”
This is the way I must look when the docs say “maybe tomorrow.” At least, that is the way I feel.
They have reduced my weight by 30 pounds, reprogramed my Pacemaker, stopped IV Potassium, and wrapped my lower legs in the unna-boots. All of this has moved me toward a discharge date that is sooner rather than later. All that being said – maybe, just maybe tomorrow will be the date I not only can check out – but actually leave.
Martha asked if there was a little sarcasm in my statement about the food. You bet ya… there was plenty. Each meal arrives cold except for what is supposed to be cold. They left the taste somewhere else ’cause it sure wasn’t included. However, I must defend them. Can you imagine having to prepare somewhere around 300 meals that are delivered to at least five different floors, in several sections of the hospital, and get the food delivered warm? I personally find it almost impossible to fix an over-medium egg without breaking the yellow. Probably a 50/50 chance of getting something worth eating. So, I have to be a little forgiving – I could never attempt to do what they do.
Perhaps today you can play Hotel California and smile, knowing that those words and that tune is stuck in my little pea brain.
And so, I pray: Lord, you know that patients I asked you to help me acquire? Well, I need another dose. I think the other one is about to run out. Put a smile on my face and hope in my heart, and help me not only to check out, but to actually be able to leave Cone Hospital. (Today). Amen.