Res ipsa loquitur

Fandom's young but all of us are getting older, so maybe my experiences would be of use to someone?

The short version: I'm 41 days post surgery. Back at work, hardly ever in pain but still lacking in stamina, have a lot of bad muscle habits to break and a lot of strength to recover. The worst part was that it took a month before I started getting a good night's sleep again. Technology is amazing.

( Hip surgery prep and recovery, for those who are interested )

So I learned some things this weekend:

- Even if you have a CPAP machine, sleep apnea can still make your blood pressure spike while you sleep.

- When your blood pressure spikes, it can wake you up feeling like you can't breathe.

- If you call a nurse line for advice and you say, "I can't breathe," they're going to tell you to go to the ER. (No 24-hour urgent care here.)

- If you go to the ER and you say, "I can't breathe," and a blood test shows even the tiniest uptick in one of the chemicals that are associated with heart failure, protocol requires them to admit you to the hospital.

So I spent 12 hours in the hospital Sunday night/Monday morning, when I would have liked to be enjoying a quiet holiday at home.

And the only thing that came of it was that a doctor changed my blood pressure meds.

(I suppose it's better to be hospitalized for almost nothing than to be hospitalized for definitely something.)

I couldn't sleep without my machine, and I was bored out of my skull. Luckily I had "The Goblin Emperor" in my library of e-books, so I read it again. Like, *all* of it in one day.

Also I'm fat and 55, so "chest pains" kept making its way onto my chart. A nurse would come and say, "So are you still having chest pains?" and I'd say, "I have never had one (1) chest pain," and she'd say, "Oh, I'd better take that out of the computer," and then the shift would change and a new nurse would come in and say, "How are your chest pains?" There was a whiteboard in the room with a space for My Treatment Goals, and the goal was "No chest pains." (It's good to be able to achieve at least one goal.) I can't believe how many times I had to tell people I wasn't having chest pains. And what do you want to bet that the next time I see my doctor, she'll look at my chart and say, "So, breathing difficulties and chest pains?"

In the ER, before they admitted me, I was in Room 13. I said to the nurse, "You have a Room 13? Medical people must not be superstitious." She said, "We are *so* superstitious. Because we see what happens when the moon is full!"