I originally wrote this post 2 years ago, in May 2010 and titled it "I Pooped In A Hat". What's this have to do with pressure? Well I felt like I was under a lot of pressure. And as you'll see I experienced some pressure...
It's been a long haul.
Let's see - a week of radiation followed by a stem cell transplant.
Two weeks in the hospital.
Almost two weeks home now.
Whew!
You know, the radiation treatments were two hours a session, twice a day, for four days. I was in and out of that claustrophobia-inducing gadget more than a drunken rabbit on a viagra overdose.
Then I was admitted to the hospital because I had a fever. The doctors were worried about infection. Little did I know I'd be there for two weeks.
Too much time in a hospital can play tricks on your mind. For example, I kept wanting to call the disembodied voice at the other end of the call-button "Base Commander". Must have been the drugs - or that I'd loaded up on several seasons of Battlestar Galactica before my stay. I resisted the urge.
And I loved it when the nurse would come around at 11pm after I'd fallen into a deep sleep at 8pm to tell me "Time to wake up and take your sleeping pills."
The weirdest thing that happened had to do with a little case of constipation. The nurse gave me some "special" pills and told me "We're gonna give you a hat that we want you to use when you go to the bathroom". And I thought, "Now why would I wear a hat sitting on the toilet?"
Turns out this is a clear plastic affair that sits on the back of the bowel to catch your "sample". Hospitals love samples: blood samples, urine samples and, yes, pooh samples.
After several days, victory was mine. And I was able to push that call-button and proudly announce, "Base Commander, I have pooped in your hat!"
It's been a long haul.
Let's see - a week of radiation followed by a stem cell transplant.
Two weeks in the hospital.
Almost two weeks home now.
Whew!
You know, the radiation treatments were two hours a session, twice a day, for four days. I was in and out of that claustrophobia-inducing gadget more than a drunken rabbit on a viagra overdose.
Machine with which I had an intimate relationship.
Then I was admitted to the hospital because I had a fever. The doctors were worried about infection. Little did I know I'd be there for two weeks.
Too much time in a hospital can play tricks on your mind. For example, I kept wanting to call the disembodied voice at the other end of the call-button "Base Commander". Must have been the drugs - or that I'd loaded up on several seasons of Battlestar Galactica before my stay. I resisted the urge.
And I loved it when the nurse would come around at 11pm after I'd fallen into a deep sleep at 8pm to tell me "Time to wake up and take your sleeping pills."
The weirdest thing that happened had to do with a little case of constipation. The nurse gave me some "special" pills and told me "We're gonna give you a hat that we want you to use when you go to the bathroom". And I thought, "Now why would I wear a hat sitting on the toilet?"
Turns out this is a clear plastic affair that sits on the back of the bowel to catch your "sample". Hospitals love samples: blood samples, urine samples and, yes, pooh samples.
After several days, victory was mine. And I was able to push that call-button and proudly announce, "Base Commander, I have pooped in your hat!"
There are no rules to this little exercise. Participants are in for the long haul, a half haul or a day here and there. I tried my best to keep track of who's in on this but after a couple of days gave up. Already Unfinished Person has dropped out. I imagine there will be more. So what I suggest you do is visit her at We Work For Cheese and check out her linky-dinky thingy to see who's in from day to day.
Hey, don't forget to check out this week's pic in "Pause Ponder and Pun" today over on my other blog, dufus daze.
Comments
Thankfully you are past all of that (right)?