"CALL 911!" And I did.
Rick was feeling puny and looking even punier. The nurse, Susan, originally suggested that I take Rick to our local Urgent Care center but when she tried to have him walk, he couldn't. Of course he couldn't. Not only had he just had his hip replaced, he had also been up all night. He was about as weak as one can get... and he didn't feel good on top of that. So, Susan told me to call 911. And I did.
Maybe one day Rick will forgive me for that. He sure wasn't in a party mood right then, though. I know he kept seeing the number 20 flash by his eyes... meaning, the last time I took him to the hospital, he didn't come home for 20 days. And the dog darn near had a stroke over it.
I apologized and apologized... and blamed Susan as much as I could. But it needed to be done.
So, Monday night was a wash. The ambulance came and by 5:00, Rick was snuggled away in the isolation room in the ER. Wait... ISOLATION ROOM? Yep, that's where they tucked him. And I never found out why. But by 1:30 am, we were headed home to try to sleep until 6:30 am when Rick was due for a procedure.
Shall I spare you the details? Let me just give you the highlights... Rick is now allergic to Hydrocodone, the pain medicine he's taken like forever, but will never take again. I'm thinking that all pain meds are gonna wreak havoc on him from now on... But this pain med caused him great discomfort in a lot of places, namely the bladder and the bowels. I'll stop there. I'll leave you with this thought, though. Colonoscopy prep. Big drink. The next day. At home. Mess.
That's enough, Kris.
My weekend was fun, my Monday night and Tuesday morning were not. But I do have this as a consolation:
Betcha ain't never seen a jackpot this big.
I can afford to have my carpet cleaned now.
;)
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