Free at Last! Free at Last! Etc.

If you routinely drive Seattle's freeways, you've probably had the experience of driving I-5 north out of Seattle, passing the University District, and then somewhere about 85th finding the traffic, for no clear reason, bog down and instead of doing sixty you're doing thirty-five. This lasts for a little less than a mile, when suddenly, but again, for no obvious reason, the freeway opens back up, everyone floors it, and now you're doing seventy (at least I am -- the Roadster was made to go fast). 

The hospital experience on Monday was a lot like that spot on I-5 where things open up. Suddenly, things start moving very quickly. Again, the morning starts with check ins from the various doctors and this time all are on the same page. It's time to turn off the epidural and see if the pain can be controlled with pills. If so, I'll be out the door. 

10, 9, 8 ...

By late morning the anesthesiologists are satisfied, and the epidural is removed. (This is where I learn about the tape they used to hold it all down. Yikes!)

... 7, 6 ...

Around lunchtime the nurse shows up to let me know I've been moved off the liquid diet and am free to eat whatever I want. A taco salad, grilled ham and cheese sandwich, and a mocha shake will be the only real meal I eat in the hospital. While I'm eating it, a technician shows up to remove the catheter. (Finally!) Happily, he's careful to move my tray of food to the other side of the room before removing the device. (Deep breath, exhale, and, once again, yikes!) 

... 5, 4 ...

A patient care tech comes in to let me know that I will definitely be going home, but that it'll take a little while before everything's set for my release. She's asks if I want to shower before I go. Absolutely. So she brings me towels, soap and shampoo -- everything I need to use the room's shower. Well, almost everything. It seems the room has been undergoing some plumbing work, and the shower doesn't actually have a shower head on it. It's just an open pipe. Under normal circumstances I might care, but at this point I am not going to be the cause of any delays so I just shower under the pipe. It works well enough for me, though it does basically flood the entire bathroom (sorry!). 

... 3, 2, 1.

Shortly thereafter the Physician's Assistant shows up with my discharge paperwork and painkiller prescriptions. He reviews what I need to do once I'm out of the hospital and asks if I have questions. I don't. My visitors and I grab the paperwork, the backpack with my junk in it, and the flowers I've accumulated since I arrived and we bolt. 

At 3:00 I'm back in my condo.