Hospital, the end

So it was all night long with the IV bags, getting them changed every few hours. It didn't bother me though, I slept right through the whole thing. The lovely M stayed by my side the whole night, sleeping in the airplane seat (and ending up with a sore neck for days). Some interesting/scary things about the hospital: no soap in the bathrooms, no toilet paper in the bathrooms, no windows in the room.

The next day, I was discharged in the late afternoon and told to come back for the next 3 days and get some more antibiotics. It was decided (by me) to leave the IV port in and not get shots in my butt instead. Actually, when we were originally talking about what my treatment would be, the butt-shots were an option, but that it would be really painful and over a long period of time. The doc convinced me that 24 hours in the hospital would be better for me - with the obvious benefits of no painful shots.

The doctor also gave me some prescriptions for different drugs to help my intestines and other parts recover. I went straight to the pharmacy to get the scrips filled and was (relatively) shocked again when I was told that the prescription HAD to be a mistake, as they never,ever give that drug for a week. In fact, they never give it for more than 2 days.

Great. In the end, I asked a couple other doctors (including the husband of my spanish teacher) and was told that, indeed, just 2 days of that particular drug was the correct amount.

Absolutely confidence inspiring.

So one day of antibiotics in the IV - no problems. Two days, no problem. On the third day, I go in and it seems there's a problem with the IV - it got blocked up somehow. Well, I wasn't ready for a shot yet, so I suggested to try to put an IV in the other arm...and no go.

Turn over, the nurse says, this one's gotta go in your behind.

Whoa! But, but, but...to no avail...I rolled over, bit my shirt, and walked out with a bruise the size of an orange and couldn't sit for 5 hours.