VIDISCHARGE—THE GOOD KIND
After five more days I was discharged from the hospital and sent home to finish my recovery on sheets NOT made of sandpaper. WHOOOO! I must have the most exfoliated bedsores in town.
Before I left, though, I had Flip steal one of those wildly erotic back-less hospital gowns, some needle-free hypodermics (to make a punk-rock tiara), a commemorative bedpan, and enough tongue depressors to finally build that detachable stegosaurus spine I’ve been dreaming of.
There was not a lot I was going to miss about this place. CAN ANYONE SAY: SPONGE BATH? My God! The final indignity!
Once home, it took the combined efforts of Flip, Dad, and Flossie to get me up the stairs and into bed. We finally figured out that if I sat in a chair and they lifted it, rickshaw-style, they could carry it up, one step at a time. It would still be a slow and jiggly process, taking almost FORTY MINUTES, but finally I was home and back in the safety of my own room.
Thank God.