I'm sent home in a wheelchair with so many meds and prescriptions and ointments and bandages I hardly know what to do.
My neighbours have been over and helped Scotty remove most of the inner doors in a panicked attempt to make my life easier getting around.
There is a hospital bed setup on the side of our lounge room and I immediately think 'that's in the wrong place' but keep it to myself because I know he has been trying to do the right thing and help make my life easier. I just want it under the window facing the idiot box so I can look at the outside world or glaze over at the telly. It will happen.
I've had a lot of anesthetic and drugs and everything is fuzzy. I'm not myself. I want more cheeseburgers and a Red Bull and Scotty complies.
I settle into my bed and gob some Endone and wait for it to kick in. There isn't much to do about anything at this point. I've fucked myself up really badly and can't move around easily and should really stay in this bed as much as possible with the leg elevated and just pass the time without trying to do to much at all.
For me, this is mission impossible. I like to do things. I'm an active guy and I really just want to be out riding my Indian. That ain't gonna happen for a while yet I tell myself.
Fuck.
The leg and foot and wounds are all wrapped up so I can't inspect them until the nurse comes the next day to check the wounds and change the pin site dressings.
I decide that will be my action packed day adventure one day at a time now.
The nurse comes the next day and introduces herself. She seems nice and is very gentle when she takes the bandages off, clearly she can see I am in pain and she asks about the medications I have been prescribed and makes a note. She tells me to perhaps make sure I have taken paracetamol and two endone before they come each day as it is likely to be painful for a while.
I am pretty sure this one was taken in hospital just before I left but that's what it looked like when the nurse first saw it at home and she looked concerned. I felt concerned. It's awful raw looking and that pussy yellow shit is not a good sign of a clean wound. I think it's infected.
The instructions were to only change the dressings as required but there was a lot of yellow ooze on the bandages so she wanted to look at the site.
She changes the pin sites and says that another nurse will be in tomorrow to do the same and we will just keep an eye on it for now.
The pain is now so bad I don't want to move at all. Any movement sends waves of incredible agony through my body and I think or I imagine all the bones flopping around inside there must be touching and rubbing other broken bits, it's the worst pain I have ever felt and I vaguely wonder if this is the worst of it.
I suck it up a bit, mostly trying to brave for Scotty, he looks exhausted and worried and scared. I hear him talking to people on the phone, my brother, sisters and friends overseas. Everyone is wanting updates and he is on it 24/7 being my guardian and shielding me from too many questions.
I take back to Twitter and update my Followers about my progress. Most people are shocked I'm at home and frankly so am I because I'm sure as fuck it doesn't feel right.
Tomorrow a nurse will check in again and I guess I just have to take it from there.
Like I said before, one day at a time now.
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