Roommate #2 was my most favorite hospital roommate EVER, so far.
Talk about a spitfire! We were up talking until 3:30 in the morning on topics ranging from cancer to food, politics to health issues, to lab draws (or 'lab stabs' as I like to call them now).
Our nurse, Molly, would come in and get really involved in the conversations. We even learned at one point what a 'code 21' was for room 608. Apparently it means someone isn't too happy and needs to be restrained due to threatening physical violence. Yikes.
By the time we were done cackling and giggling, our room was nicknamed 'the party room' because the nurses would come in and visit and giggle with us about whatever we were talking about.
And then we were woken up around 6am for the lab guy.
And then we fell back asleep for another couple hours after breakfast.
Shortly after I'd finished eating, the surgeon came in for my roommate; within 20 minutes they decided they were going to perform the operation to draw out the fluid surrounding her lungs and then some.
We called to each other from across the hallway as they wheeled her away to surgery: "It's been a pleasure! Good luck!"
Apparently her surgery went well, and she is now on the 3rd floor - the 'surgical floor'.
And now...I am alone.
And so I surf the internet, praying to the Goddesses and Gods that I get to go home tomorrow. I won't know though until after they do my 7:30 am lab stab to draw for my INR numbers -- they want it between 2 and 2.5 -- yesterday it was 1.37. Yeah, not so good.
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