Having spent the last day or so at the hospital with my husband for his surgery, I made a few key observations.
I thought I would share:
1. If you are at a Catholic hospital and *jokingly* offer to slip the surgeon an extra 50 bucks to throw in a quick vasectomy while your husband is under, evidently it isn't funny to anyone but you. And perhaps your husband. But thats it. It IS however an incredibly effective way to create a prolonged awkward silence. Like super awkward. And long. Like longer than eternity long. Clearly my delivery needs work, because I don't think they got it at all.
2. Evidently hospital gowns are more comfortable than I realized, and pain meds are AWESOME! Yesterday, while taking a brief jaunt, my husband informed me that he is going to trade in his whole wardrobe and wear nothing but muumuus going forward because, in his words, "being all open and free like this is quite liberating". If there is anyone who could pull that look off, it is him. However, as a Junior Partner, I would love to see him strut into his first executive meeting sporting a kaftan. Pretty sure it go over just fine. Sorta.
3. When a pre-op patient is looking at the details, all he notices is that you CAN sleep in the room with him. He doesn't worry about whether you should, or what the accommodations are. This may shock you, but hard, lumpy pleather love seats are far less comfy to sleep on than you would imagine. Much less. Significantly less. In fact, I believe I can still feel my elbow in my spleen. Or maybe that's my liver. I'm not sure.
4. Call me Pandora, but every time I see a "staff only" door or a HazMat sign, I have this overwhelming desire to see what is behind it. Nothing like a million "off limits" areas to make me all itchy to go exploring. If Baltimore has a sudden outbreak of Ebola, it has nothing to do with me. Nothing. But seriously, if they wanted me to stay out, why the hell would they put a huge "Keep Out" sign on the door???
5. Nothing like chilling at the hospital for a bit to bring on the sympathetic symptoms. Like I suddenly have this sharp pain in my lower abdomen. Now try Googling that at 2 a.m. from the Pleather Bed of Doom for some extra fun. Evidently, I either have advanced abdominal cancer... ooooooor a pulled muscle. Hmmm, do I check myself in to the ER now, or wait until John comes off of the pain meds a bit so he can go with me? Wait, that's not even a question! Of course, I go now while he is still hopped up ON the meds. Just me, my cancer/sore muscle, and my muumuu wearing zombie hubby strolling into the ER. Sounds like a good time :-)