And so I’m here, at Boston Medical Center, and I’m finally all wired up. The nurse/phlebotomist with the Southie accent who just put in my IV just left and my nurse is coming by at some point to get me some food. I’m not entirely sure how many wires are GLUED to my head, but it’s north of 20.
Yes, that’s right, glued. The technician who was attaching them referred to the gluing part as being like, “a bad day at the nail salon” and she wasn’t kidding. I asked how they removed the glue and she said, which I suspected, acetone. I think I may have Geoff bring a bottle back with him when I get out of here since, apparently, getting all the glue off of one’s scalp takes “several washings.” Fun.
I supposed it would be rude of me not to tell you all about my helmet.
I’ll get a picture of it when I can, but right now, it is out of reach. Which is ironic as I am supposed to wear it AT ALL TIMES when on my feet and out of bed. This includes the 6 foot walk to the bathroom and also when using the shower. Mind you, I can’t actually shower as my head can’t get wet, I can only sponge bathe, but I have to sponge bathe with the helmet on. Seriously.
It’s a black hockey helmet.
You know, I could have sworn I had some dignity around here someplace. I have no idea where it went. Have you seen it?