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Toileting and The Rubber Chicken


So once it was decided I could get up and to the bedside commode or to a chair I was happier. I wasn’t a fan of bedpans- it was a struggle then I’d pee too much. Yea I think my first NA (Brooke) was over me. I was so sorry!!! It sucks as a healthcare provider to know sort of what they were thinking. She constantly joked about having to change my sheets so much. I decided humor was the best thing I could do. I can say we probably laughed too much and inappropriately at times. I’d like to think I wasn’t a pain in the ass. Brooke quickly got used to me and my OCD need to wash my hands. Each time she would exit she would do her hand hygiene then grab a glove and squirt hand sanitizer in it for me. She was wonderful about doing anything for me. She helped make sure my phone and iPad stayed charged, that I always had ice water (girl that's why I pee'd so much), but she wasn’t there 24/7. My nurses were all young, and they enjoyed a laugh too. I called them my drug dealers.

Mischief really ensued when the rubber chicken showed up. Mom and I had found them at the IGA in Townsend earlier in our trip. It makes the most obnoxious sound. Before I became the newest roadside attraction in Walland, TN I jokingly had said to Mom I was going to go back and get one to carry in my bike jerseys and use it for drivers who are assholes.  After my accident, Mom had stopped at IGA on her way to or from the trailer and I guess decided I needed to cheer up hence chicken was purchased.

Now I hid the chicken from my nurses and when they least expected it I was squeezing it. Roooooo. Startle the unsuspecting nurse. I’m telling you I was bored.  Since my left foot was swollen a great deal, and they constantly were checking my pulse, plus I needed a reminder to not put weight on it when I was up, I didn't have my sock on that foot; so naturally the chicken wore the sock for a while (this would totally confuse my OT on my last hospital day - we will discuss the OT and ADL's later).

The funniest incident I didn’t even do intentionally. Nights were interesting at BMH. They’d shut your door turn the lights down and let you snooze, but they periodically they came in your room because they’d sign off hourly on your dry erase board. I remember one night the fire alarm went off twice. I could faintly hear it in the hall, see the strobe lights in the hall but my window looked out to another part of the hospital so I could see it flashing. I was happy the place didn't burn down and half wondered if someone burned popcorn.

Another night there was a male patient on my floor who was being an asshole yelling and screaming at the staff. I think this was the night the unintentional chicken attack occurred.

I was under strict orders not to get up without help. By now I had my walker but my strength and balance was poor. I was struggling with side effects of narcotics a bit. While I had been mildly successful of course the poo pain hits on a busy night. So I hit my call bell and soon was assisted to the bedside commode where I was left with the instruction to ring again for help back to bed.

Ok fine. So I did my business and waited a bit just in case. Mind you sitting on things with hard edges with a broken hip isn’t fun. I found that it didn’t take long before the back of my leg would start hurting pretty badly. The other issue one has with limited mobility and only able to weight bear on one foot is the process of cleaning thyself. Sorry if it’s TMI, but it must be told. This feat of hygiene is impossible to do sitting on a BSC. So needing to get up and clean up and get back in bed I rang the call bell. Waited. Waited. Alright y’all.

In walks this older lady who appeared clueless. She’s like “hon-ee the aides are all busy. I can try to help what do you need?” Me: (thinking seriously, I’m a 12 feet taller than you and outweigh you by plenty, there’s no way you are going to help me stand up and clean my butt). I said something along the lines of I need to get back in bed but I need to clean myself up. You could tell she was absolutely not prepared for that request. I said if you’re not comfortable then get someone else. She insisted on helping so in order not to risk a fall, her getting fired or me from losing circulation to my feet from camping on the BSC; I just stumbled my way back to bed and asked that she hand me some tissue. I managed to semi-roll myself towards my left and attempted my hygiene. Meanwhile when I turned. I felt the rubber chicken under my side. Ooooohhhhh noooooo. My twenty-somethings would be just fine with this, but this lady was not prepared for the roar of the rubber chicken. I couldn’t stand to stay on my left side too long because it hurt and hurt bad so I had to get back on my back. The rubber chicken roared, the lady screamed and I laughed. She left and never came back. That’s probably the last time she helped anyone up from the BSC. When I shared the story with the younger crowed the howled with laughter. I wish I could have seen the lady’s face. I still laugh out loud thinking of the rubber chicken incident of 2018.  I'm surprised she didn't get me kicked out sooner.  HAHAHA

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