After a day and a half in Burnaby, they were glad to see my sorry ass shipped out the door and off to the only neurosurgical ward in the lower mainland, at the proudly named Royal Columbian Hospital. Two very kind and courteous EMT guys chauffeured me and I was pleasantly surprised to find that my cousin Lisa was part of the nursing staff on the ward. It makes such a difference to have a familiar face around!
At this point I was still only in a neck brace and not allowed to move. It took four nurses and much coordination to turn me, which had to be done regularly to prevent bedsores. And of course, still no food (although I wasn't hungry) but I was now allowed to sip water which was wonderful.
The next morning I met my specialist, and, although I'd be the first to say that no one should be judged on their hairdo, Dr. C. sported a very entertaining Beatlles mop-top do. His flamboyant hair made up for the fact that he barely speaks. After he left the nurse whispered to me that he was an absolutely brilliant neurosurgeon, just had no bedside manners.
I now entered a period of extended sleep and lots of meds. Put me into quite a fog, but I know I had many visitors and messages from friends. Thanks to you all - so kind and it really does help keep the mood positive. I did have an X-Ray that could qualify for a ride at Playland - I was strapped to a tilt table and raised to a 90 degree angle - sounds easy but I was just petrified. Hmmn, is it becoming obvious that I don't do well when I have no control over the situation?
1 comment:
I have heard from several others that those tilt tables are incredibly frightening. I'm glad you got through it!
Post a Comment