Meatloaf sandwich coma.

I spent most of my time today in the hospital, waiting for someone to tell me what’s going on with my mom. I sat and waited most of the day. I had to chase down the nurse to get the first information, and then I waited until the evening before all the doctors – the resident, the intern, and the attending physician – all came in. They all believe that my mom’s leg pain was bad enough that she needed some pretty serious pain killers, and just out of perverse coincidence she also had trouble with her gall bladder. On top of all that, the blood thinning medication she was taking was working a little too well and it was 3 times thinner than it should be. Imagine enough blood in your pee that it looks like cranberry juice.

OK, so now for my whiny part: yesterday I didn’t get to eat dinner. I had a deliciously nasty bacon cheeseburger and a green tea latte for lunch and then I stayed up until almost 4AM at the hospital (my mom needs a translator sometimes.) This morning I had my usual oatmeal and tea and figured I’d get some food at the hospital. However, by the time I made it to the cafeteria they only had soup and refrigerator sandwiches. Even the coffee choices were limited: good tasting coffee that was cold or hot coffee that tasted like burning rubber.

I went to the Industrial Café for dinner and had a gigantic hot meatloaf sandwich and a beer. I’m sure it wasn’t good for me, but it sure tasted good. Now if I had any sense I’d go to bed early so I can talk to the cutterssurgeons at the hospital tomorrow.