Over-documenting my life with photos sometimes means I end up with images that aren’t exactly great memories. I recently spent eight days in the hospital fighting sepsis and gritting my teeth when the pain medication wasn’t doing its job against the ulcers in my intestines. It really sucked, and that’s about as eloquent as I can be about it. •
Brian sat with me the whole time. My friends visited me every evening to cheer me up. More than once, our pleasant card games were interrupted by me vomiting or dozing off because of the Percocet+dilaudid combination. These people really love me, guys.
I have cried a handful of times over the pure joy of being home. (Bernie and Frankie have been glued to my side.) My only post-hospital request — homemade mashed potatoes —was granted as soon as I could keep food down again, and I was even able to eat a delicious snow day brunch yesterday that made me want to cry. (See last photo.)
Best news: I was declared “favorite patient” by multiple nurses, so I guess my sense of humor is still ok even when I barely know where I am.
#hospital#sepsis#friends#love (Really thrilled to hashtag sepsis, everyone.)
Sometimes taking small jaunts off the interstate lands you in strange, 1800s Indiana towns with canal boats, and taking an innocent photo of the outside of a place with a million cookie jars means that you get roped into taking a tour of their 3,100+ piece collection and hearing tales of their granny. •