If I Were a Horse, They’d Put Me Down

Yesterday morning started off pretty exciting. For starters, I was pretty sure that when the doctor came to see me, she was going to tell me I could go home within a couple of days. After all, it was an uneventful weekend (no contractions, bleeding, or other indications of labor), and I could lay in bed at home.

After breakfast, while laying in bed, killing time as usual, I heard the loudspeaker out in the hall announce a code red. For those of you unfamiliar with the ‘let’s use code colors in order to avoid panic’ system of hospitals, a code red means fire. Pretty easy to figure out anyway, especially when they announced the location of this particular code red: downstairs cafeteria. Oh well, I figured, it’s probably a grease fire that got a little out of hand, and protocol says they have to announce it even when it’s back under control. Maybe, but apparently, this was a bit bigger than that. After a few minutes, I started smelling smoke in my room. Then, I heard the fire engines arriving. A few minutes after that, it actually started to get smoky in my room. Now, I thought, would probably be a good time to let the nurses know about this. As soon as my nurse walked in, she decided it was a good idea to move me to another room. By that time, the smoke was bad enough to start burning the eyes. So, she rounded up a wheelchair and moved me down the hallway to a room not directly over the cafeteria. Meanwhile, they called another code red for the dining room. Turns out there had been a gas leak and a minor kaboom. Did about $5,000 in damage, and put the kitchen out of commission for awhile. Lunch was a slice of turkey lunchmeat between two pieces of bread with a couple of saltine crackers and a grape juice cup. I was amazed they managed to pull that much off in such a short time. Dinner was the same thing, roast beef instead of turkey. Ryan was kind enough to bring me Sonic.

Wish I could have stayed in that room, though. Not only did it have a comfy recliner, but I could actually see something besides four brick walls. While waiting for the all clear, one of my doctors came to visit me. I perked up, because I figured she was going to say let’s send you home on bedrest, and we’ll follow up in a few days. Not so. Instead, she was worried about the positive fetal fibronectin tests and wanted to keep me here in the hospital for an indeterminate length of time. They would recheck my cervix with ultrasound on the 29th, but I was definitely here through Christmas. Joy.

So, here I’ve laid since Friday (other than the short stint in the recliner in the other room). The highlights of my days are still mealtimes, which are really depressing now that the cafeteria is working on scraps. I’m trying not to make Ryan bring me meals three times a day, but I’m certainly not digging hospital food. A permanent recumbent state has brought everlasting acid reflux, back spasms, and overpowering butt numbness. My friends are afraid to call–I’m so bored that what should be a five-minute check on my condition turns into an hour long conversation in a desperate attempt to interact with the outside world. They tell me it’s freezing cold outside, but in here it’s a steady 72 degrees. In short, I’m starting to feel like a recluse. My only hope is that on the 29th everything has miraculously returned to normal, and they decide Carson’s going to stay in awhile after all. Legs are still crossed.

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