Had a stay in hospital last week. The reason is not important. Well, it is to me, just not for this blog right now.
So on the second day, for good behavior they give me new pajamas to wear. A cotton johnny (hate that word) and pajama bottoms. The johnny size is Hippo, the bottoms are size Starbucks Tall and Skinny.
Thus proving, laying down I really do look like a Victoria Secret model.
Inside the bathroom, resembling an airplane bathroom, I get a shock in the mirror to see I resemble my Great times a thousand Grandmother, who lived in the Stoneage times. My hair is sticking out in all directions, my lips are turtle like and folding in one one another. Somewhere there are blue eyes peeking out from the red and black. Plus I am bloated like a puffer fish.
My efforts to get closer to glamorous were laughable and my attempt to get the Tall Skinnies on were painful. Its hard to maneuver when you are attached to wires and a pole. Then I start to laugh, then I drop the heart monitor and then I hear a nurse banging on the bathroom door because my heart alarm is going off.
She is trying to open the door as I'm trying to wedge my dignity. Does my bum look big in this, does not even come into play, as my bum could not even get into it!!
"Mrs.S, you must get back into bed, your heart rate is too high". I'm now sweating, bright red while being pulled to bed by a 12 year old nurse who can't lift me into bed to save her life, let alone safe mine!
"Your pulse is so high" child nurse panics.
The Tall Skinnies ripped and then I farted, which is not something I like to do in view of my public. My whole image of being that Soap Opera hospital patient dispersed in ten seconds.
Everyone farts in hospital and nobody says anything. I'm surprised there are not explosions with all the chemicals around. Even my sitter came in, sat down, got out her knitting and belched loudly. By the end of my visit I had a good rendition of "Jingle Bells" under my belt. So that's something new to share on Christmas Day.