A Quiet Evening at Home

After years of interruptions and postponements, my roommate finally went in for her knee replacement surgery (at almost 71 years of age to boot). Part of the foot-dragging was from my life–family problems, illnesses and lots of out-of-state travel; but I think she was not so eager to go under the knife again. She had the surgery on her other knee years ago.

Knee Replacement wound which has been stapled ...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So for the first time in about 4 years, I came home to a (relatively) empty house–a quiet evening at home–if you don’t count the 2 dogs and 3 cats that live there; oh and of course, the neighbor’s cat sleeping on the back patio. As soon as the garage door went up, I could hear the dogs; through the closed front door, over the car engine. They knew someone was home to rescue them.

It was just a little disheartening when, after their initial excitement at seeing me, they were quite obvious in the way that they ran back to the door to see where the roommate was (still at the hospital). I let them run out to the front yard, where they continued their hunt for her before finally giving up and coming in so that I could feed them dinner.

A Quiet Evening?

After dinner, I ended up sitting down at the computer going over some emails and catch up on life; then the house phone rang.

Dun dun dun daaaah

yelling on the phone“Where are you?” is the first thing I hear. “Ummm, home,” I answer; “Jeannie?”

“Who else would it be?” Well, by this time, I know it’s the roomie; but she has definitely been hitting the pain killers–or not, according to her.

“Thesh people are try-ig to kill me.” This is something I can entirely understand and relate to, because she has spent the last 3 days on the phone telling anyone at the doctors’s office, the insurance office or any other office unlucky enough to answer her call, what a bunch of idiots they all are.

She proceeds to tell me how her spinal block is not working and she has been screaming for pain killers for hours, to no avail. In fact, while we are on the phone, she yells at someone who is trying to close the door to her room (imagine that!); then tells me she’s gotta go.

Bliss, quiet, peace. Then the cell phone rings. Of course it’s in the bedroom; so by the time I get there, it’s gone to voicemail…..just enough recording to hear the caller hang up.  sigh

To The Rescue

quiet eveningI decide to take the dogs for a walk; which of course they know a full 30-seconds before I do. They are running and jumping and raring to go; when the house phone rings again.

“You have to come dooown here,” she says. “You have to telllll these people how much paaain I’m in; because they just don’t get it. Please, please come down here and talk to them like you do, so they’ll take me seriously.”

I pause for a second or two; it’s long enough for her to get indignant and say “Oh never mind; why should I expect YOUR  help” before she slams the phone down.

I settle the dogs down, grab my purse and head off to the hospital (glutton-for-punishment; yes, I know).

When the elevator doors open, I can hear her down the hall; and I consider not stepping out. As I walk in the room, she looks at me and says “You know, you didn’t HAVE to come.”

There are four other people in the room, trying to take her blood pressure and temperature, to adjust her oxygen and two are studying her foot and leg–by poking and squeezing it. She is carrying on a conversation with each of them (including the one trying to put a thermometer in her mouth). Then she waves her arms, points to me and says “Tell them I need MORphine!”

One of the nurses looks up and says, “The doctor has given the order, and you can request it once every hour;” then points to the chart on the wall. It’s eleven minutes until she can have any.

So I ask if there’s anything else (silly question; there’s ALWAYS something else). Can I find her missing sock? No not that one, the purple one. Apparently they took it off when she was in surgery–they stole her purple sock. All I can think is that I want to run away….

I rummage around her bag and drawer before giving up; while another nurse brings in some yellow ones–they will just have to do (please? I just want to go home…..)

A Quiet Evening at Home

Finally, all is right with the world; at least with her world. She got her morphine; and called me again this morning, so I’d be sure to know she was drugged up and happy. Oh and that they had her up and walking already.

So she may be home as soon as tomorrow.

Enhanced by Zemanta


  1. Hang in there, take a little me time and remember to take care of you. <3

  2. Hope your roommate feels better soon.
    Ruth Zankich recently posted..Exploring the town of Julian, CA with familyMy Profile

  3. If you need a night out, let me know! Big hugs to you Ann!

Speak Your Mind


CommentLuv badge