Holy Cross

Hospitalized

This isn't a "story" as such, but a chronological account of my stay in a hospital.

Tuesday December 16, 2025

It was wintertime so I was down in my little Fort Lauderdale trailer. Something had been going around the RV park. One by one, people were getting sick. It was an upper respiratory thing, and it would last like 3 weeks. I felt some mild symptoms, but seemed to dodge the bullet. That all changed one Tuesday. I went to bed the night before feeling some symptoms, and the next morning I woke up with the beginnings of a sore throat. They all said that was where it began. I took a Covid test, something I'm not sure any of them had done, but it came back negative so I just got on with my day. I went to Coffee & Conversation, and then on to my AA meeting, and then the gym. I didn't skimp out on the workout because I was feeling sick. I powered through and did all my exercises with gusto.

After the gym I went home and had lunch. I then decided to take it easy for the rest of the afternoon. It was a couple hours later when the chills set in. I don't think I had ever had chills this bad before. I went through fits where I would shake uncontrollably. It was so bad a couple of times I literally shook the trailer. I didn't really feel feverish, but I took my temperature anyway. To my surprise it was well above 102. TMI Warning: this was also around the time that the severe diarrhea set in. Every 30-60 minutes I would have to run to the toilet and pass some pure liquid. There was always some urgency around this. All of a sudden I would have to go, and I would be lucky to get my pants down and squat on the toilet before it would start coming out. I wasn't sick to my stomach, although I did come close to throwing up at one point, but I still felt sickly so I wasn't eating or drinking much.

I spent the rest of the day in the recliner watching TV, running to the toilet every hour or so, and watching my temperature get higher and higher. By the time I was ready for bed it had gotten up to 104. I knew that was too high. I knew that I probably should go to the hospital. But it was late and I didn't have anyone to take me and I really didn't want to call an ambulance and have to flag them down when they got to the park wondering which of the dozens of RVs was the one they needed to go to. So I just soldiered on.

I didn't take out my contact lenses before I went to bed. I also decided to sleep in my sweatpants and t-shirt and socks. And for some reason I decided to bring my dog into the bed, which is something I never do. My sleep was punctuated with waking to the need to run to the toilet. Several times it woke me up. At one point I discovered that I had slept right through one episode. I had literally shit the bed. This was a first for me. Even after decades of blackout alcoholism I had never experienced this before. But there wasn't much I could do in the moment except change my underwear and move over to the other side of the bed.

The other thing that was on my mind all night was the need to pee. I had been dealing with an enlarged prostate for many years at this point. The only real impact had been that it sometimes made it hard to initiate a urine stream. I had learned from a couple of unfortunate experiences in the past that the more you need to pee the more it will resist peeing. If I got to the point I needed to pee really bad, I couldn't pee at all, which is a self-compounding condition. I had spoken to my urologist about it, and he said that if it gets really bad then it would involve catheterization. So all night when I was sitting on the pot I would be sure to wait until I expelled at least a little urine just so I knew that the pathway was still intact. That just added another dimension of worry, and a delay in getting back to bed each time. I would try to drink a little water to replenish the hydration, but I really couldn't tolerate much more than a sip.

My sleep was also disturbed by the fact that I was wearing sweats and a t-shirt. I normally sleep in just my tighty whites. Little by little I took off socks, then the sweats, and finally my t-shirt so I was at least a little more comfortable. It was largely for naught as I barely slept all night anyway.

Wednesday December 17, 2025

When the sun came up I woke up for the final time after that fitful night's sleep. The first thing I did was check my temperature. It was down to the high 103s. That was still high, but at least down from the night before. The top order of business was washing my sheets. I was so sick and the last thing I wanted to do was laundry but I really had no choice. At least I had a washer/dryer right in my unit so I didn't have to walk to the laundry facility across the park and compete with other people. I was able to get it done and make the bed back up, but it was a struggle to do so with a dangerously high temperature. As soon as I finished making the bed my dog threw up on the sheets. It was down at the foot of the bed and on the far side from where I usually slept. I didn't have the strength to do anything about it so I just left the stain there.

All I really did the rest of the day was just go back and forth between the recliner, my bed, and the toilet. I was drinking from the stash of bottled water I had in the fridge, and I was able to sip away over the course of the day, but I could still only drink so much at any one time. My temperature was bouncing around between the high 102s and the low 103s all day.

That night I still didn't take out my contacts, but this time I just climbed into bed in my tighty whites to be more comfortable. The night was again interrupted by the constant need to run to the toilet every hour or so. Each time I tried to pee to make sure that the path down my urethra remained open. It was an unpleasant addition to the drama deep in the night, sitting there on the toilet forever wondering if I would be able to initiate a urine stream or if I would be facing catheterization. Sometimes I gave up and got back in bed, but I was able to urinate enough times that I convinced myself that it wouldn't be a problem.

Thursday December 18, 2025

It was mostly just more of the same. My temperature continued to come back down. It was bouncing around somewhat, but would dip down as low as 99. The thing was I still didn't feel much better. In some ways I actually felt worse. For starters the diarrhea was still a big issue. Every hour or so I would have to run to the toilet and pass liquid. I had been going through a roll of toilet paper a day. It was getting more common that I wouldn't make it in time and would soil yet another pair of underwear. I was running out of clean jockey shorts.

I was forcing myself to sip the bottled water, and I was almost getting to the point I actually felt thirsty, but at this point I hadn't eaten any solid food in days. I force fed myself a little oatmeal, but that was about all I could stomach.

It was around that time that I started to experience some strange symptoms. I would just sort of zone out from time to time. Like if I went to get a bottle of water, I would find myself standing still by the fridge, bent over, not really sure where I was or what I was doing. I would have to remind myself to open the refrigerator door and grab a bottle. I would also break out in shakes. It wasn't like when I had the chills on the first day. This was almost like convulsions. My body and my limbs would twist and jerk like I had cerebral palsy or something.

By now I had gotten terribly, terribly weak. About all I could do was stagger between my bed and my recliner, making a detour to the toilet on a regular basis. I had barely slept for two nights running now. I was feeling more and more miserable.

And that night's sleep wasn't any better. I still hadn't taken out my contact lenses, and I still had to run to the toilet on a regular basis. And now I had the added complication that I was dizzy and disoriented. Fortunately in my tiny little trailer everything is only a couple steps from everything else, and the toilet really couldn't have been any closer to the bed, but it was still a challenge. At one point I was just standing there with one hand on the vanity, and I literally had to tell myself, "Sit down on the toilet, Toaph. All you have to do is just sit down."

Friday December 19, 2025

By this day I finally came to the conclusion that I was going to have to seek medical help. My temperature was now back in the normal range, but I was only feeling worse. The disorientation and the convulsions were only getting worse. The problem was I didn't have a medical support structure down in Florida. I got on my health insurance website and tried to navigate the tele-health offerings they presented. It was a challenge. I finally found my way to a TeleDoc utility that I had actually used the year before when I had a persistent cold that wouldn't go away. My login was still good and everything.

In preparation for scheduling a visit I had to update my medication list. I went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet to check on the dosage of a medication I had started taking. The next thing I know I'm regaining consciousness on the bathroom floor. It was almost like I was waking up from a nap. I had to remember what I had been doing in there. I got up on my knees and saw the pill bottle in the bathtub. I was lucky I didn't hit my head. I did, though, somehow manage to hurt my foot. To this day I don't know how I managed to do that, but I fucked up my foot pretty good.

I was now at the end of my rope. Fuck this tele-health shit. I contacted my dear friend Moxie who had been walking my dog for me this whole time. I said it's time he took me to the emergency room. While I waited for him I pulled some stuff together to bring with me. I packed my last remaining clean pair of underwear, my meds, my contact lens stuff, my phone charger, and my laptop. I was so weak at this point that I could only grab one thing and put it in the bag, and have to lie down until I had the strength to grab the next thing. I had to wait until Moxie got there to grab my laptop charger because it involved getting down on my hands and knees.

So Moxie poured me into the backseat of his car and took me to the urgent care that the park office recommended. I had to wait in the car while he went in to get a wheelchair. It was taking longer than I expected. But when he came out he said that urgent care wouldn't cut it, they told him to take me directly to the hospital. It felt like a very long drive through the Fort Lauderdale traffic. I was barely holding onto consciousness at this time. My field of vision was turning white, like right before you faint.

Finally we got there. He pulled right up to the ER entrance and grabbed a wheelchair. He wheeled me inside and up to the checkin desk. Once the receptionist took my ID and my health insurance card we knew things would be okay so I let Moxie go. I had no expectation that he would sit around and wait for me.

Now it was a waiting game. Whatever happened, I was already in the ER, so I knew they'd be able to handle it. I wondered how long I was going to have to wait. You know how it is in the ER. And my experience was that everything in the dense urban environment of Fort Lauderdale was always 1000x worse. But surprisingly there weren't a lot of people in the waiting room, and they seemed to be calling them in pretty promptly. I had to use the toilet, but I was afraid they'd call my name while I was in there. I was able to wheel myself over to the bathroom. A nice lady held the door for me, and I asked her if they call my name to be sure to let them know I was in there. Once inside I was able to get from the chair to the toilet without keeling over. Once I had dumped my load of liquid and wiped off I wheeled myself back out again.

It wasn't long before they finally did call my name. They wheeled me back to an exam room. The first thing they did was check my vitals. My blood pressure was dangerously low. This was why I had been passing out and convulsing so much. I barely had enough blood pressure to sustain life. This freaked them out pretty good. They were also able to determine that I was severely dehydrated. Things are a little fuzzy at this point, and I forget how they were able to get so much info so quickly, but I'm pretty sure that they had determined I had a rhino virus infection, and that the dehydration was wreaking havoc with my kidneys.

Amidst all this activity I had to use the toilet. Fortunately there was a bathroom right next to the exam room where I was. But it wasn't close enough, because I wound up waking up on the floor right outside the door. No one was around and no one saw, so I just picked myself up and went inside. By now these underwear were also pretty badly soiled, but I only had one other pair so I was going to stick with these as long as I could. I was getting used to sitting in my own messy poop at this point. I had on my dark pajama pants over them, so I just pretended everything was okay.

They needed a stool sample. I said I would have no problem providing one. They set up a little fold-up chamber pot thing right there in the room. I let loose some liquid for them to examine. It was a lot more convenient being able to just go right there and not have to risk passing out in the 3 steps to the bathroom. They also wanted a urine sample, but I was unable to produce anything. They actually gave me an ultrasound and found that my bladder was basically empty. I said I would do my best to produce a sample as soon as I was able.

One doctor was talking with me. He was a youngish black man. He asked if he knew how I might have contracted it. I mentioned that I had been at the gay bathhouse the day before I started feeling sick. Interestingly his first reaction was to step over and close the door to the exam room. The poor guy was so clueless. He asked if that meant that I was in close proximity to other people. I had to explain that it meant that I had engaged in sex acts with multiple anonymous strangers in a condensed period of time. It was around this time that another doctor came in. He was a youngish white guy who looked a little like a cross between George Clooney and Henry Rollins. The first doctor mentioned that I had been in a gay bathhouse, and interestingly this guy's reaction was also to close the door to the exam room. They were both equally taken aback by the notion of it.

So anyway, they said they said they were going to admit me and that I was going to at least stay the night, but more likely a couple days. They left me alone while they "found a room for me."

It was a bit of a wait, and I had to listen to Fox News that the guy in the next room had playing at full volume. It's not the kind of thing I wanted polluting my mind while I was feeling so very sickly, but I just had to endure. Finally they wheeled that guy away and turned off the TV so I had a little peace and quiet.

Then it was finally my turn. They put me in a wheelchair and took me up the elevator to the 4th floor. I was in bed 421-1. As we wheeled along I was looking into the rooms and I saw that they were all doubles, so like one bed was 406-1 and the other bed in the room was 406-2. I wondered who I was going to be stuck with and what it would be like to have another sickly person in the room with me. But when we got to 421 I was remarkably elated to see that it was a single room. I don't know how I got so lucky but I wasn't going to question it.

So they got me situated in my bed. They already knew that I was a pass-out risk, but somehow I let it slip that I had actually passed out and fallen to the floor downstairs right outside my exam room. They were shocked by this that it had happened right in the hospital, and more so that no one had seen it. So they told me that I was not to get out of bed without an escort. I said this could present a problem because I was having extreme diarrhea that came with a lot of urgency. They nominally acknowledged that, but are adamant that I was not to even think about getting out of bed without an escort. They pointed out that my nurse's direct number was on the little white board in my room, and I could call her with the phone by my bed.

I did use the bathroom once on my way in before I even got in bed. It was almost like a hotel bathroom. It even had a shower in there. But once they put me to bed they immediately set up a bedside commode that I could use because the need would be so frequent. They said that I still would need an escort, and they were insistent about it.

The first time I had to use the commode I called my nurse like I was supposed to. She said she would be right there. I waited as long as I could, but it was just too urgent so I got out of bed on my own. An alarm went off. They set up a fucking alarm if I got out of bed without an escort. But I was just going to have to deal with that. There was no waiting. There just wasn't. I would shit the bed every time if I sat there and waited until someone showed up. They put down a poopy pad in the bed just in case, but I still wasn't going to shit myself every damn time because I couldn't wait for an escort just to step over to the commode that was literally at my bedside.

When the nurse did show up she shut off the alarm. She brought me some swatches of toilet paper from inside the bathroom. I figured that was not going to scale well. I used up everything she brought me on the first wiping. I asked her if she could go to the supply closet and bring an actual roll of toilet paper that I could keep by the commode. Fortunately she was able to fulfill that request.

By this point the underwear I had on was pretty severely soiled. I pulled them off and stuck them in the trash. I put on the last remaining pair I had brought with me, hoping that they would last for the remainder of my visit, however long that wound up being.

So basically at this point they hooked me up to an I.V. and just pumped me full of fluids to try to rehydrate my body. They checked my vitals, telling me each time that my blood pressure was too low, like it was my fault and I was doing something wrong that it wasn't fixed by now. They confiscated all the medications I had brought with me, including the pills I took for kidney health. They said that my low blood pressure precluded me from taking any of those meds, particularly the kidney pills, which had a side effect of lowering blood pressure.

They also hooked me up to a cardiac monitor, which involved sticking a bunch of sensors on my torso with all the wires going to a little device I kept by my side. It was no big deal, but the wires wouldn't reach far so I had to bring the device with me every time I stepped over to the commode. The wires kept getting tangled with the I.V. line, which was a big pain in the ass to undo every time I lay back down.

I finally kind of got comfortable in the bed and settled in for a long stay. Other than having to use the commode on a regular basis all I had to do was just lie there and let the fluids flow through the I.V. But using the commode was an issue in that it set off the alarm every damn time. That basically became my way of summoning them more promptly. I watched how they turned off the alarm so I could start shutting it off myself.

I finally turned on the TV to see if there was anything to watch. I flicked through the channels. There wasn't much that interested me, but eventually I found a Harry Potter marathon on SyFy. That was perfect because I could just let those movies run for hours and hours at a time. Other than having to poop constantly, and having to bring the cardiac monitor with me each time, and having to turn off the alarm that went off each time, I was starting to relax a little.

They were still after me for a urine sample. Finally by late afternoon I was able to pee in to the bottle they had given me. It took a long time to get the urine stream started, but once I did it was a fairly sizable pee. I notified the patient care tech that I had been able to produce a sample. But she just took it into the bathroom and flushed it. I was incensed. I told her that was supposed to be a specimen they had been waiting for, and it had taken me hours to produce it. She laughed it off, which made me even more mad.

The kitchen sent up some dinner for me. It was chicken rigatoni. It was rather dry. I could only take a couple bites and had to chew forever before I could swallow. I guess I was so dehydrated that I could barely produce any saliva. But they had a cup of diced pairs for dessert which I wolfed down. I even drank down the syrup. It made me realize that fruit was about the only thing I'd be able to stomach for the time being.

My friend David K. Had been in touch by text message. I told him what had happened and where I was. He said he would come by and visit me. The hospital was near his condo anyway. He asked what he could bring and I said grapes. I knew that was perfect because I was craving fruits, and I could eat as much or as little at any one time.

He did show up a little later, and he did bring grapes with him, but they made him wear a mask, which he wasn't too happy about. He stayed for a little while but I wasn't very good company so he just bailed after not too long. But the grapes he brought would wind up saving my sanity.

Before bedtime I was able to produce another urine sample. This time I let the nurse know, not the Patient Care Tech, and I was explicit that this should be used as a specimen. She assured me that it would be. I would learn later that they didn't have the right stickers or something, so that sample went to waste as well.

When it was time for bed they forbid me from taking my sleep aid which was among the pills they had confiscated, but they offered me another sleeping aid which I gladly took. I slept okay except for the fact that I had to use the commode every hour or so, and they kept coming in to take my vitals, which of course woke me up. My blood pressure was still dangerously low. The patient care tech told me "Don't sleep so flat." I was like how else am I going to sleep? The thought of that crazy instruction kept me up a bit the rest of the night.

Saturday December 20, 2025

I finally woke up for good about the time the sun was coming up. I was still having liquid diarrhea on a regular basis. By now they finally accepted that I was going to get up and use the commode without assistance every time, so they disabled the alarm. They eventually gave me an Imodium for the diarrhea, but it didn't help much. I didn't order any breakfast so they sent me up pancakes with scrambled eggs and oatmeal. It was a big, heavy breakfast that I wanted no part of. I tried to eat the eggs but there was no salt or pepper and I still could only take a bite or two. But there was a cup of diced peaches that I gobbled down.

I was now starting to pee with some regularity. It was still a bit of a struggle to get the urine stream started, but there was finally urine in my bladder, so once things got going I was peeing fairly normally. By this point producing a urine sample was no longer an issue. I presume that they finally were able to get a specimen to the lab.

The Harry Potter marathon had been replaced by some violent movie I don't know what it was but I think it may have had something to do with Laura Craft. I couldn't watch it. I finally pulled up my laptop. Fortunately I was able to connect to the hospital WiFi without any difficulty. I had it set up with all my streaming services, so I could watch whatever I wanted. I was in the mood for brainless reality TV, so I watched Ink Master, RuPaul, and Project Runway. Thank god I brought the laptop with me.

The kitchen called asking what I wanted for lunch. I ordered fruit cups. They sent blueberries which were a little gross, strawberries which I ate right up, and pineapple which I savored.

I was visited by Dr. Wolfe who was a nice lady and she explained that my kidney numbers were still high and my blood pressure was still low. They were going to keep me for "a couple more days." I was also visited by a kidney doctor who did not seem at all concerned that my numbers had spiked. He said just keep on with the fluids and my numbers would come right back down. That was reassuring.

I missed Dondi's birthday party that day. It had been scheduled way out in advance, and I knew everyone else was going to be there. I knew he and everyone else would know why I wasn't there, but I did still feel like I was missing out on it.

The I.V. was becoming a problem. The device was set up to actually pump it into my body, not just let gravity do the trick. It was set up to detect if it was being occluded, like if I bent my elbow or something. That was good in that it alerted me if I needed to reposition my arm or something, but it started going off constantly. Often the alarm would sound even if I was just lying there not moving. And it was no longer able to reset itself. It would get stuck in beep mode, and I would have to call the nurse each time. Sometimes she would come right in, but often it would take quite a while. In addition to the nurse's direct line, I could hit the call button on the remote by my bed, which would connect me to the central desk. I would do that if the nurse's line went to voicemail, or if they just weren't coming. They would always say that they would pass on the message to the nurse, but by my reckoning it never made any difference. I would often have to lie there listening to the beeping the whole time I waited for someone to finally show up. I can be sensitive to annoying sounds, and the beeping started driving me nuts. It went "beep.beep.beep...beep.beep......beep.beep.beep...beep.beep." It repeated endlessly. And it happened all the damn time. Everything else was going well enough except for that, and it was becoming more of a problem.

By dinner time my appetite had returned a bit. I ordered a deli sandwich. I wanted ham and cheese but that was denied because I was on the "renal diet." So I ordered turkey, which was also denied. Last chance was chicken, which they approved. I asked for chocolate milk but that was denied, so I got grape juice. The sandwich was actually really good. It was thick sliced chicken and was very tasty.

That evening I watched my standard Netflix / Prime / Apple TV / HBO MAX fare. When it came time for bed they denied me both my gabapentin and whatever sleeping pill they had given me the night before. I don't know why it was okay the previous night but not okay anymore, but I was going to have to raw dog my sleep that night. Spoiler alert, I didn't sleep well. I still had diarrhea all the time, and they would still come in and bug me with the vitals, but fortunately not quite as much. As I lay there awake and unable to get back to sleep I would get hungry. Thank god I had the grapes that David brought me. Not only was it something to put in my stomach, they were really delicious. I had forgotten how much I like the taste of grapes. It really was a lifesaver.

Sunday December 21, 2025

More of the same. I woke up with the sun feeling utterly exhausted. By now I had thought to order yogurt for breakfast. It was perfect. I got two strawberry Greek yogurts. It tasted great and the texture went down easy. I also ordered apple juice, which was also good.

There was some confusion on whether they could give me more Imodium or not. They were being super cautious about my meds based on my low blood pressure. But they finally decided it was okay, and they actually gave me a double dose. It took a little while, but it eventually started to be effective. Finally, after days and days and days, I no longer had to pass liquid every hour or so. It was wonderful.

They also pulled the cardiac monitor off me. I guess they had decided that my heart was fine and they didn't need to keep monitoring it. So I didn't have to deal with that device and all the wires getting tangled with the I.V. line and stuff. It was nice to be rid of it.

The kitchen called asking what I wanted for lunch. I asked for another deli chicken sandwich, but now that was forbidden, or otherwise unavailable. So I begrudgingly ordered the chicken salad. Well it wound up being fantastic. It was like the best chicken salad sandwich I'd ever had.

I watched football that afternoon, but of course they aired the Miami game, which I didn't give a hoot about. But I was able to follow the Buffalo Bills score on the crawl.

I was finally starting to feel a little better. I was visited by Dr. Wolfe who said things were going well but they still wanted to keep me longer. I wasn't pooping as much anymore, which made things easier, but the I.V. was still getting occluded constantly. They put in another needle in a different location, but that didn't help much. After the football game I just watched shit on my laptop. It really was a godsend to have that available.

I had been seeing ads for mac & cheese, which looked really appetizing to me. I checked the hospital menu and saw that they had Mac & cheese as side dishes. I ordered a couple for dinner but it was not allowed on my renal diet. I wound up getting the chicken teriyaki. It wasn't bad when I mixed the rice up in the sauce.

That night they again forbid me both the gabapentin and other sleeping pill, so it was another fitful night's sleep. At least I didn't have to poop as much, and they were still chill on the vitals, but I lay awake a lot of the night. I again dug into David's grapes when I got hungry, but that was starting to get a little old.

Monday December 22, 2025

I had another breakfast of yogurt and apple juice. It was the perfect morning meal. It went down easy and put something in my stomach without being heavy. Dr. Wolfe came by and said if things continue to go well they could discharge me the next day. That made me very happy.

I just watched TV on my laptop all day. The pooping was minimized, but now I had to pee a lot because of all the fluids they continued to pump into me. That wasn't nearly the hassle that the pooping had been. I had a pee bottle right beside my bed, so I could just stand up and let loose into it whenever I needed to.

The I.V machine was still going into alarm mode all the time though. The nurse said that it was because the needle was too small to accommodate the rate of flow that they set the machine for. She had this device that projected green light onto my skin and indicated where the veins were. Despite the fact that all my veins were right not he surface, she said that they don't always flow the way you want them to. She checked my other arm and there was a big huge vein that she said was perfect.

She sent for someone to come in specialized in I.V. needles. It was a very fit young man who apparently was the needle whisperer. He came in with a commanding presence. He stuck a needle in my other arm in like two seconds and walked right back out again. He didn't even test it or anything. After he left the nurse came back in, hooked the machine up to the new needle, and moved everything over to that side of my bed. It all worked perfectly. I no longer got the alarm going off all the time. That was nice, but I wondered why they didn't put the right sized needle in from the start and save me all the noise and having to call for a nurse all the time. From that point on the only time it beeped was when the bag was empty and they had to put in a new one.

At some point I got a call from the billing office that said that my insurance would cover 90% of the bill, but I had to arrange payment info for my portion so they could charge me a deposit. Fortunately I knew my credit card number by heart and was able to give her the info over the phone. She said she wanted to charge me $500. I said go ahead and bill me the grand total, but she said there could still be additional charges so they had to wait until everything closed out.

So by now my appetite was back, I was drinking lots of water, my blood pressure was back up and my kidney number was down. I wasn't pooping all the time anymore, but I had to pee a lot. They wanted to measure it so that they could monitor how much fluid was passing through me, so each time someone emptied the bottle they had to log how much had been in it. Things were finally starting to go my way. But I still had to lie there and watch old reality TV on my laptop all day long. I forget what I had for lunch that day, but that night I had the salmon for dinner, which was also quite good. I was really impressed with the quality of the food there.

That night was also without any sleep meds. It was perhaps the least poor sleep I had gotten so far, but still not great.

Tuesday December 23, 2025

I had another breakfast of yogurt and apple juice. I waited with bated breath as to whether they would discharge me or not. In my head I concocted all these reasons why they might deny me, and rehearsed my speech where I would say I was going to deny treatment and demand they let me go. One scenario I considered was that they wouldn't have the latest numbers so they couldn't assess me for discharge. Fortunately that scenario was circumvented when someone came that morning to get blood. That was reassuring because I knew the lab would quickly run my numbers and the doctor would see where I was at.

I was becoming impatient and wondered what time Dr. Wolfe would come by on her rounds, but even before I saw her, word got to me that I would indeed be discharged. Whew! That was a huge relief. But I still had to wait for other things to happen before they could wheel me out.

When Dr Wolfe did make her rounds she confirmed that I would be discharged. I asked her a few questions. I asked if I was still contagious considering everyone was still wearing masks and protective gear when they came in the room. She said I'm not contagious anymore that was all just precautions. I asked if I needed to continue the renal diet at home and she said no just eat normally. I asked when I should start taking my kidney pills again and she said give it a couple of days.

She alerted me that they had found some bug in my stool that they wanted to address. They sent in a prescription for an antibiotic I was to take once I got home.

Before she walked out I asked when I could get off this I.V. She said effective immediately. I just had to wait for a nurse to come and pull the plug. She left, but I was unable to get the nurse to some in and get the I.V. out of me. I would have to wait for that.

The next step was to be visited by the discharge nurse who would go over my paperwork. I was afraid that would introduce a huge delay, but she actually came by pretty quickly. I thought there would be forms for me to fill out and stuff, but there wasn't much to it. She just basically gave me hard copies that said pretty much everything Dr. Wolfe had just told me.

So I was all good. Basically it was just a matter of pulling the I.V. out and getting a wheelchair ride out the front door. I was in touch with my neighbor Ken who was going to be picking me up. He said he would be having lunch in the area anyway, so he would just plan on coming by the hospital afterwards. I told him I couldn't be specific about the time, but he told me not to worry about it.

I knew my nurse was going into a meeting at 11:00 and would be unavailable. Well my I.V. bag ran out at 11:01 and the damn machine started beeping at me. It was like getting in its last licks before I would be rid of it forever. I assumed the nurse meeting would be brief, because like they have to service their patients and everything, but I couldn't get her on the phone or anyone else to respond. I had to listen to that damn beeping for a full fucking hour before she finally came in and dealt with it. I was sooooooo glad to be rid of that thing.

Now it was a waiting game go get a wheelchair ride. It was around 12:30 that my nurse said someone would be there in 5 minutes. I alerted Ken and he said he would be ready. Well 5 minutes came and went and nothing. Then 10 minutes. Then 20. Finally 30 minutes passed and still no one was there to pick me up. I was ready to just walk out on my own, but I didn't want to risk passing out and having to be readmitted all over again. I hadn't been on my own two feet basically since the Tuesday this all hit. I messaged Ken that there was still no word on when someone would come fetch me. I wryly said I was tempted to just get up and walk out, but he told me don't even think about it. He said I should stay put and he would continue to wait.

But it had been so long that I did start making calls. I called my nurse directly but got her voicemail, and I called the general line, which was as useless as it had been this whole time. By the time 40 fucking minutes had gone by I was finally told someone was on their way. I let Ken know. He was about ready to give up on me. But within minutes a young woman came in and I got in the chair. She wheeled me to the elevator, down to the first floor, and out the main entrance. It was warm outside. This was the first time I had breathed fresh air in 4 days. I was now wondering how I would be able to connect with Ken, but he pulled right up. I hobbled into the car and away we went. On the drive home he told me how incredible Dondi's birthday party was, with tons of food and an open bar. It made me all the more regretful I'd missed it. He helped me up the steps into my trailer. Bailey sure was glad to see me. I immediately took a nap.

Postscript

On the one hand I recovered more quickly than I expected. That first evening when all the dog people got together for the nightly walk, I expected to have to pass Bailey off to Ken, but it turned out I was able to do the full dog walk all the way around the RV park on my own. The problem was my foot. I had injured it when I passed out in the bathroom the previous Friday, and I didn't notice it much lying in a hospital bed from then on, but now that I was trying to walk on it I realized it was still badly hurt. I had the strength to walk all around the park but I was hobbling on my bad foot the whole time.

My appetite was strong. I expected to send Ken out the next day with a list of things to buy, but I made it to the pharmacy for my antibiotic and to the grocery store all on my own. I had to get there fairly early because it was now Christmas Eve and I knew they would close early. I expected it to be mobbed but it wasn't bad. I stocked up on comfort food and pigged out for days, exacerbated by the fact that Ken gave me a big fat bag of Lindore chocolates as a Christmas present.

The only real problem I faced was that I now had to get up and pee like 5+ times every night. Before I got sick I would sleep all the way through the night with no problem, but now it was like my prostate had quadrupled in size over the course of this escapade. This was a problem. It robbed me of any decent sleep, and had me tired and useless every day. I was finally able to get my urology office on the phone back home. The prescribed me something, but there was a danger it could lower my blood pressure, especially in concert with my kidney pills, so I didn't take it. I was really concerned that this would be my new normal and I would never get a decent night's sleep ever again. Over the course of a week or so the frequency was reduced to just once a night, but it was still disruptive to my sleep, and I was constantly tired during the day. As of this writing, I'm still not able to get through the night without having to get up and pee at least once.

I finally went to see a doctor about my foot. The primary purpose was to just establish a relationship with a primary care physician here in Florida, but the excuse was to have him look at my foot. I checked my health insurance sight for people in my area who were in network. I started with the closest one. They said not only were they taking on new patients, but that I could come in right away. The clinic was a little sketchy. The waiting room was like a check cashing joint. But the staff seemed professional. I finally got into an exam room. It was a little dirty and grimy in there. I had to remind myself that this is a different environment from what I was accustomed to in Ithaca NY. I was seen by a medical student who took an extensive medical history and examined my foot. He brought in the doctor, who had a heavy Hatian accent, but was very friendly and seemed to be knowledgeable. He looked at my foot and confirmed that it was just some kind of a strain, and that it would take time to heal. He also confirmed that I should exercise it and stretch it as best I could, as long as I didn't overdo it. He also recommended alternating between hot and cold compresses. We then had a nice chat about my health in general before he let me go. Af of this writing the foot is making marginal process, but it's going to take time for it to get back to normal.

It was a few days before I could get myself back into the gym. I could tell that I was still weak, but after a few visits I could feel my strength returning. However all the progress I had made lifting weights was gone. I basically had to start over from scratch. But the more times I go to the gym the more progress I make.

This was a real unfortunate incident, and I wish it all could have been avoided, but as they say, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. And the biggest lesson I learned was how risky it is to be fucking around at bathhouses. This whole escapade has made me rethink that kind of behavior.

Sunday January 11

For the first time I woke up after not having to get up and pee even once the night before. It was a turning point in my recovery and gave me hope for the first time.

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