And now, the last part of Gill’s hospital story.
I spent the better part of three days in the hospital, and in that time I had some visitors. One was the friend who took me to the revival, the others were people who had kind of adopted me as their “daughter.”
Thursday and Friday I was less groggy and miserable, and was able to take a walk around the ward.
On Saturday morning I went to see the original eye doctor who saw me Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, but I really don’t recall that. Clearer in my head is the annoying empty IV bag beeping, and the anti-clot medicine injected into my stomach at night. I also kind of remember snapping at a medical student for assuming I had to have someone help me go to the bathroom.
Friday night when I got home, I needed to wash the hospital smell off of me. The doctor said I should cover my eye to keep from exacerbating the infection. That night I had my mom wash my hair for me. That in itself was a humbling experience, because I’m not one to ask for help often. She also helped me apply the ointment that night and the next morning.
I’d like to thank all the nurses, medics, doctors, etc. I also owe a huge debt of gratitude to my mom, and everyone who called.
There’s an old saying that if something doesn’t feel right, look in to it further. I am on the road to recovery because I didn’t listen to the first doctor. I also believe that God had a hand in this, placing the right doctors and people at the right place.
I am about to go take my medicine now, and like I said, if something really isn’t feeling right, don’t ignore it.