Woke up before 7am this morning, which is honestly sleeping in a bit for me. Immediately noticed that the dog (who smells like butt) had been sleeping on my favorite blanket all night. While I was groggily throwing the blanket into my washing machine, I realized… at least at the hospital I don’t have to change bed clothes or wash their gowns. Laundry is for the birds man.
I am home, I was discharged late Friday. I came home and promptly fell asleep on my couch curled up with my own blanket, pillow and my kid. It feels good to be home. I’m feeling a good deal better (if Prednisone is good for nothing else…) and am enjoying being outside of that small little hospital room. I have about 6 new prescriptions, which I am doing my best not to forget, and I have to make an appointment with my GI’s office to go in to discuss Cimzia and my insurance. For now though? I’m just enjoying being home.
There’s something disheartening about being stuck in a hospital room. Especially when you reach the point that you *know* that all the meds coming through your IV come in pill form and your off of pain medication. I’m not a fan of vitals at 3am nor am I a fan of a newly graduated dietitian telling me how to eat, when I’ve been doing this for 7 years next month. Don’t get me wrong, everyone I came in contact with was very sweet, it just gets to me when I start feeling better and I have to reign in my tongue a bit to make sure I don’t smart off. When I’m doing the “Oh my god what’s wrong with me now” thing, that’s one thing, but other than that? I want to go home. At least no one charges me anything to go home and not eat and sleep on my own couch.
See, there I go again. Haha.
Anyway, I have some things to do and a breakfast to figure out. I hope everyone is having a great weekend!