The good news is that I did get a room here with the shiny new furniture, including fully-automated bed. Once I’m a bit less dizzy I think I’ll play around more with different bed positions. My very nice roommate Milo checked out this afternoon so I hope I luck out again with whoever moves in this evening. Anyhow, it looks like I’ll be going home on Friday. I’m already sitting up and moving about a little and the doctor says he’s going to remove the IVs tomorrow.
My only really ‘out of it’ day was yesterday after the operation, and I was still feeling really groggy today until the nurse disconnected the morphine. I’m much perkier now. Still haven’t eaten, except for some peach juice that I promptly threw up, which the nurse told me was probably also because of the morphine. I think they’ll be giving me some purée tonight (mmm…) which is actually much better than what they laughingly call chicken broth here. The closest I can come to describing it is ‘hot fatty water’. Perhaps Pipocas can come up with something better – I made her taste some last night. And so, I seem to be recovering much more quickly than last time and yesterday I was very pleased not to have woken up in the ICU. Well, until I found out why. . .
). It creates a barrier somehow. As if, just because I have a serious health problem, I have lost my ability to sympathise and, more importantly, empathise with others. Which is not the case at all.
casa azahar 
