A Journal Journey Of Medical Mishaps

 Let's see if I can get this halfway straight. Let's see if ANY of this makes sense. I took a bad tumble about two months ago, it was severe. I say it was severe, because it was. It blacked both my eyes. It hurt my brain. While I was in the hospital, things started getting weird here. I seemed to be missing things, but, not the kinds of things thieves take. Things that meant nothing and were worth less. If you understand me. In this two month period I was hospitalized at least six and probably seven times. Yeah, that's a lot. Why can't I remember all of it? With my spotty memory, do I need a lawyer? Is there any use in having a lawyer?I remember Jenny Edmondson Hospital. I was in the old part. I didn't know it had an old part, but, there I was. Day after day. Once it rained and I begged nurses to let me sit in my wheelchair just to the side of the big (only) window. I wanted to watch the rain, I have always loved it. It was a Jenny Ed. that I was diagnosed with a huge brain tumor. Not just a big brain tumor, but, huge, enormous, the worst they'd ever seen. The good news was that it was benign. I am not prone to making things up, let alone small Asian men who hold my hand as they deliver bad news. I just wanted to go home. They wanted me to stay so they could ''observe'' me. I wanted to go home to my pets.

I got home and called my regular doctor, a GP, and made and appointment for a hospital release visit. It took a lot to get there as Lissa still has my car, so I had to call ahead to ''reserve'' a taxi. If I called too far ahead, they could forget me. If I called too late, I would never get there. Somehow, I got there. I wasn't nervous, I had a book and some water with me and I occupied my time after the initial sign in. When I got called in to see the doctor, a nurse asked me what I weighed. I said I had no idea. I still don't know, my guess would be 140 lbs. Once you get old, no one is much interested in anything you have to say anyway, so I was taken at my word and wheeled into one of the exam rooms. To wait and wait some more. When the doctor finally came in, it was Dr. Shelton, my regular doctor. He's been my doctor for decades. He left for awhile. I, for one, was glad to have him back. He ended up doing a preliminary check before he recognised me. Dr. Shelton: "You! Go back to Azria!" Then he was out of the room. I then realized the nightmares I'd been having were true. I had not been in a hospital, I had been in a nursing home! I always had this idea that if I got stuck in a nursing home, it wouldn't be so bad. I mean, three squares a day, TV for sure and hopefully WIFI. My memories are a little like that. Very little. I sure didn't remember a little old man dressed like a Martian who yelled at me. I didn't remember anything like that at all.