Monday morning, I felt pretty good. Liz made me a couple of fried eggs with veggie bacon for breakfast, and Sharon made me a bowl of oatmeal. That was a good start to the day.
I took a shower. I didn't take the splint pillow into the shower with me, so it was rather a long time standing up without support. I washed my hair, face, arms, and various other parts, avoiding the abdomen. After I rinsed off, I turned off the water, and grabbed my towel. I carefully dabbed the water off around the staples. I was pretty tired by the time I was done and dressed again, but I had a feeling of accomplishment.
Meaning to carry on doing things that mattered, I called the doctor's office to schedule my staple removal. I asked for an appointment in a week, meaning 21 April, thirteen days after the operation. Usually, staples are left in for a week to ten days, but the doctor, on discharge, had suggested I go in that Monday. The office, however, said there were no appointments that day. The earliest I could get in was 28 April. Three weeks after the operation, with staples still in.
"But that would mean I would have the staples in for three weeks," I explained. "Do you think the doctor would want that?"
There was a pause. Not along pause, but noticeable. I don't know how much medical education the person answering the phone had, but I hoped enough to know my question wasn't absurd.
"Well, sir, I can't schedule you for any earlier, as there are no appointments available. You can call next Monday morning to see if there are any cancellations, or if the doctor wants to work you in," she said.
"Okay," I replied, slowly, stretching the word out to show that it meant something else. Like, if that's the best you can do, I'll have to make my own arrangements. I know people, people who know how to remove staples. Maybe I'll just take my business elsewhere.
It is true; I know people who can remove staples. But I wasn't going to call them. I knew Dr. Paddy was on vacation, so I decided I would wait, and call the next Monday morning. And when I called, I would make a fuss until I got in that day, because I wasn't waiting three weeks. That's what I was thinking. I doubt that came across in the way I pronounced, Okay.
I had kind of expected that Dr. Paddy's office would anticipate a patient needing an appointment to get staples out after surgery. I mean, that's what Dr. Paddy does. He cuts people open, takes out what needs removed, and staples them shut. Then, after a week or two, he has the staples taken out. So, you schedule an operation, and you pencil in a time for removing the staples. But I guess not.
The rest of the day was about like the day before. I sat on the couch reading, I ate what someone brought me for lunch, which was leftovers, I took a nap in the afternoon, and I read some more. Until about 5 pm, when I asked Liz if she wanted to watch TV. I doubt that that marks a point of progress in my recovery. Maybe it did, because I hadn't wanted to watch TV Saturday or Sunday. Maybe turning on a show was too much commitment before Monday, but that evening, I was ready. I could manage a whole episode of Star Trek. Then we watched Haven. Then X-Files. And finally, Poirot. Yes, about four hours of TV. But around 9 pm, I took another Percocet, and said I wanted to sleep. I was at my limit for TV endurance. Until the next evening.
Resting, drinking lots of water, walking some, eating healthy food, and not too much, and resting. That was my life that day. The other stuff was all extra, and helped to pass the time. And now, I need some more rest.
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