When I stayed with auntie Julie in the hospital, the first night I slept with Keri in the guest waiting area. The second night I slept in the room with Julie and Keri slept at Matt and Laurissa's place. The third night I slept in the room, but it was hard to get any sleep because I was directly under the air conditioning plus I didn't have a pillow because selfish heart-surgery-Julie had to have ALL the pillows propping up her arms just so her stupid incision didn't hurt so bad. (I never told her I didn't have a pillow.) Plus, Julie was having trouble sleeping in the hospital bed. She just couldn't get comfortable. So they brought in an awesome recliner for her:
The thing is, when you have heart surgery you can't just like, get out of bed. You have to hug a pillow and use ONLY your legs to get up and down. So being in the recliner was nice because she could be sort of upright, and then when she needed to get up it was easier. And secretly I was happy because then I could sleep in her hospital bed and I did. With ALL the blankets. I slept and slept for days and days. (Two days). And when the nurses came in I would say, "I'm not the patient." Just in case they got any crazy ideas to check MY glucose or blood pressure. But they never did.
It was the most comfortable bed in the whole world. I kept wanting all the nurses to sort of think that I was a spoiled brat and that I was in the hospital bed because I made Julie get out, and that she was abused and that's why she got out. But nobody seemed to care who was in the hospital bed and so it was hard to fool people into anything.
Hospital beds are the best. When I was preggo and in the hospital for preterm labor it was like vacation. "How are you feeling Sarah?" says the nurse. "Pretty good except my back kind of hurts." Then I get a massage, but the relaxing, wonderful kind of massage, not the husband kind with all the boob grabbing and tickling.
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