Okay, so I lied. I was going to save my hospital escapades for another time, when it was particularly bleak and I needed something else to rant about, or when I run out of things to blog about… which is actually kind of the case right now. I wish I had some pictures, but this is going to be mostly text-based because all the photos I have (meaning, the ones my dad took) make me look like shit, so I am not going to post them.

Anyway, my brief stint in the hospital… was actually the first time I got confined since I was in the third grade! It is not as enjoyable as I remembered it being. When I had been confined then, the hospital was actually better, but that’s beside the point. I think my first-time viewage of a John Hughes movie (Sixteen Candles!) made it better. I had to do homework then, but that was somehow OK.

This time around, I just kind of waited for the next show I wanted to see on television (although, one bright spot was probably getting introduced to White Collar‘s Matt Bomer, by way of a marathon) and also for the itchiness to go away. My legs felt super prickly and I couldn’t sleep, sometimes, because of so many minor discomforts that didn’t really count as pain, but bothered me to the point of I Cannot Get Any Sleep, anyway.

The nurses also liked going in at random times (3 a.m., just as I am about to fall asleep, dammit) to check my temperature (which never reached past 37 once my condition stabilized) and my blood pressure. They also liked checking my IV drip and regulating and re-regulating the flow, resulting into random stabby sensations up my right arm. Every single time. Annoyingly enough, at one point, they forgot to check the IV drip and it was almost all out when I noticed. I do not know what would have happened, but I do know that that would be bad.

On the list of other useless things they like doing is asking me how much I have peed or pooped since so-and-so time that day. I also got asked once how many glasses of water I drank during the day… at home.

That aside, the food was also always cold, and not very appetizing. I guess that’s not really their main concern. I only ate the yema (haha) and also the soup that came with one of the meals. But fret not, the food wasn’t wasted since whoever was watching over me usually ate the food. I mostly had Skyflakes with a healthy dose of IV drip on the side and lots of water and Gatorade. On the first day, I tried eating but then I couldn’t keep it down! TMI, but there you go.

Things I Have Discovered While In the Hospital:

• Charmed still airs on local TV. Every morning, Tuesdays-Saturdays. I will not tell you what channel because you are not supposed to see that atrocious show.
• It’s hard to read with only one hand. You would think it wouldn’t be so hard, but it really is.
• When you are not within reach of good music, you tend to hum them a lot or sing them. Even when you are alone, or when the person you are with is sleeping.
• It’s hard to be without a limb, even if it is only one hand. I think I would probably be significantly less productive if I was missing even a finger. But that’s just because I’m a weakling.
• Charmed is really bad.
• I am not the kind of person who likes having visitors around.
• It’s nice to read poetry when you have nothing else to do. (I read Sarah Manguso’s Siste Viator. It was good.)
• Your hair smells really gross after days of not bathing. Like, really.
• Being admitted to the hospital is not fun.

I have many other lessons and discoveries, but I’ll spare you. I wish I had some sort of epiphany or life-changing life choice to accompany this lame experience, but alas, I do not. The last time I was hospitalized, I remembered that I switched from grape juice to orange juice (I wasn’t allowed to drink or eat dark food because it could translate as internal bleeding via X-ray), and also I discovered a kindred spirit in Samantha Baker.

Now, though, I just really wanted to GTFO of that place. The people were uncaring and insensitive and my body was super upset with itself. And the waiting was really the worst. I have never experienced this kind of agony of waiting since high school, maybe, while waiting for the bell to signal dismissal. (Here is a photo of that AWESOME, AWESOME time. I hope the sarcasm translates, but if it doesn’t, now you know that I was being sarcastic. Because I just told you.)

I hated waiting, and I hated having to watch Charmed because nothing else was on.

But, I suppose that that was a necessary step and detour for me to get better. Because I don’t think that I would have recovered as fast without the sleepless nights, the bad television, the constant jabs of pain up my arm and the gross food. Maybe I could do without one or two of those things, but despite the discomforts, I’m glad that hospitals exist because I do not want to feel that shitty again. And now, I am better and I actually have that horrid place to thank!

Stay away from these people.