This has not been fun so far.
Not that being admitted to the hospital ever is, but you'd think there would be SOME joy in Mudville. Not so here. Nor has there been any treatment as of yet.
I checked in around 12:30 p.m. Since then I've had a chest x-ray, blood work, NO LUNCH, three sticks to get an IV started since I apparently am veinless, and an arterial blood gas. And as much fun as the three sticks to get the IV started were, they paled in comparison to the blood gas.
All to heck and gone.
The charge nurse was trying to take my history while the lab tech was getting started, and another nurse was trying to start an IV in the other arm. Both of them left the room when he announced what he was going to do.
That was my first clue of the thrills to come.
The second was when he told me to take a "really deep breath" - this to someone who's being treated for asthma - and then proceeded to stick a needle in my wrist that I felt all the way up to my right eyeball. And if that wasn't bad enough, he couldn't quite get where he needed to be, so he had to jiggle it around.
I now know why they put the absorbent pad on my bed.
After Son of Hitler got done he said, "Boy, you really made me WORK for that one!" And after he picked himself up from the heap he landed in on the floor, he promised to leave me alone for a while.
A long while.
It is now almost 4 p.m. I have not yet had lunch. None has been offered, so I ate one of the oranges I brought from home to keep from attacking one of the nurses in the hall and holding him or her hostage until I was fed. No one has started any IV solutions, done any breathing treatments, or even acknowledged my existence in the past two hours.
I could have done THIS at home, and for much less money. But I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun with needles.
The next plan of action is to go prowl the halls in my backless gown in search of sustenance. If you hear screaming in the distance you'll know from whence it came.
Film at 11.