Great to be Back...

...in the hospital! SO GREAT. Don't worry, nothing really exciting or baby-related this time (except for the fact that they're interested in The Deuce's welfare in general); they just felt the need to admit me to give me some IV antibiotics for the persistent and aptly-named C. difficile. So here I am again, watching HGTV and wearing lots of plastic bracelets. Plus I have internet, so I guess that's a bonus.

The six hours in triage (or whatever they call the crappy rooms on the ground floor where they make you sit in a gown for six hours before you get admitted) were longer and crappier than usual, however. The "bed" (blue foam thing) is a lot less comfortable at 36 weeks pregnant than it was at 29 weeks, oddly enough. And the TV was apparently permanently tuned to Discovery Health, which is normally a questionable choice in a hospital anyway, but on this particular afternoon, they seemed to be running a marathon of "Dr. G: Medical Examiner," which is a really crappy show about dead people. How uplifting. It doesn't help that Dr. G's voice is more annoying than Sarah Palin's. So there was six hours of that.

Then there was the thing with the crackers. When I came in at 11, I hadn't eaten in a couple hours, but wasn't feeling great (obviously), so I sat around for a little while not really caring. After about an hour, though, I started to feel a mite peckish, so I asked if I could get some crackers. The nurse said she wasn't sure, so I waited until after the doctor came by. She gave me the go-ahead, so I asked for crackers again. Crackers were promised, but not delivered. The next time the nurse came in, I asked again. I was getting fairly hungry by this time, after four hours of not eating anything. Basically, every time the nurse came in, I asked for crackers, and got hungrier and hungrier, and received no crackers. After four hours of being in triage or whatever, they finally told me I was going to be admitted, which did not please me, but I dealt with it and called Chris to let him know what was going on. Then time passed. Continued to pass. I suppose I could have rung the call button and asked for food, but that seemed stupid, since I'm sure nurses are busy and stuff. After one million years, the nurse poked her head in again and asked if I needed anything... and through the sobbing, she somehow made out the word "crackers". "I know," she said, "it's hard to leave a little one at home. But they're resilient. He'll be fine, and you'll be home soon." I nodded at that, because she was right, it IS hard to be in the hospital and hope Soren will be OK, however: I was crying because I hadn't eaten in eight hours and wanted some damn crackers. Anyway, my obvious concern for my family must have moved her, because I finally got my wish. And then they moved me out of the room with the blue foam bed and the marathon of shows about dead people, up to my own room with a real bed and a channel changer.

As you can see, I am really preoccupied with my grave medical situation. Hopefully, the fun new antibiotics will work their magic, and I'll be able to get out of here tomorrow and have crackers whenever I want. Oh, and be with my loving family again.