Wish I could say the pain is easing, but it's getting worse. Even in this relatively posh rehab center, when it comes to evaluations and pain management, time seems to slow to a crawl. Good thing I had the hospital fill my Opana prescription to take home, because the center didn't--they don't stock it, their doctor needs to hand in a written scrip (thanks, all those street-drug dealing lowlifes and a paranoid government) and the pharmacy they use is closed on weekends. So I have to dip into my own every 12 hrs till at least Monday. The hospital specified "1-2 Norco 10 mg. every 4-6 hrs as needed;" I got my discharge dose at noon, which began wearing off at 3:30. It took me 3 hits on the call button to get it by 4:30.
And after four requests I got my 9:30 dose over an hour late--i had to argue with them that "4-6 hrs. As needed" doesn't mean "6 hrs., period." Still no Neurontin either, and the electric-zap nerve pain is getting unbearable. PT never showed up, just OT, and I was so stiff when they took me to the loo that I nearly screamed as they lowered my left leg. My reacher won't do, but they don't lend theirs out; when I stood up after cleaning myself my shorts fell to my ankles, the toilet paper roll sprung off the holder and few across the room. I still don't have my own walker--I was told not to bring one, that they'd provide it; but PT needs to evaluate me first. Well, DUH--do they somehow think I may have made too much progress for one? Terrified to go to bed lest I need to get up to use the loo during the night. Every passing of gas hurts my staples. And I haven't even done anything yet since I got here. So nervous from the pain that I am full of gas again. They won't let me get into my nightie (even sitting in my wheelchair until they can evaluate my body for "sores" sort of like the way they make you note the dings and scratches before you leave the rental car lot, probably for the same reasons). Every time I'm on the cell my room phone rings and I can't reach it (can't wheel with one hand) and vice versa. My orders are to do nothing for myself until otherwise instructed.
There aren't enough pillows to properly elevate, and they don't have proper ice packs to tie around the center of my knee, either--just ziploc bags inside a pillowcase. I was told on my tour I could shower any day I wanted to--instead today I was told my showers are scheduled Saturdays and Wednesdays. But, hey, they have free ice cream all day long. This is PT rehab, not substance abuse rehab. And it's the nicest place in my network that could honor my reservation.
And there is nobody to bring me anything from home--Bob's overnighting near his hospitals so he can cover all his nursing homes and see me tomorrow night before midnight; Gordy's still in TN; my housekeeper's husband needs her tomorrow (hey, it's her day off anyway so it's not my call) and she needs to be at my place all day Monday because FedEx has a package to deliver that needs an adult signature (and they tend to knock once and then give up), so I won't see her--or even get my gym shoes--till Tuesday.
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?
United States
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