Apologies for the gap in posts of late; currently I find myself hospitalized for a particularly nasty gastric affliction. Normally I don’t like to post about such things but since everyone I know now knows about it anyway I figure I might as well go ahead and tell everyone I don’t know as well.

This is my first time ever in hospital as a patient, and [unsurprisingly] I am not much enjoying myself. By necessity a whole bunch of everyday social niceties go out the window, especially discretion/privacy. It all leaves me feeling rather vulnerable and frail, and listening to the various sufferings of the other patients around me makes me feel that HUMANS ARE REALLY BADLY DESIGNED when it comes to maintenance. Access, drainage, contamination, infection, pain– everything is so damn messy and squidgy.

Random Observations

• There is remarkable disagreement about what constitutes a “clear fluid”
• Never let someone attach a cannula in the crook of your elbow; it will restrict your arm movement. I have a new one now on the back of my left arm and it is much more convenient.
• Everything in a hospital is urgent, so don’t expect everyone to jump when you have a problem– experienced staff cannot be rushed (or fazed).
• Inexperienced nurses are lovely because they will show sympathy much more easily– probably best not to milk it though.
• Having a team of doctors spontaneously turn up to stand around your bed asking you how you are feeling is an incredibly effective way to make you forget every important question you had prepared. Write stuff down.
• Other patients’ visitors are remarkably annoying, talking too loudly, praying, offering sage advice etc.
• My visitors are the best  (see below)
• People snore and fart a lot.
• Little air bubbles in your IV tube do not kill you, but watching them disappear into your vein is still very unnerving.

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