Can't get enough of this Hospital Stuff.

It seems the Foster Family just can’t get enough of the “Hospital life.” I personally would rather more of the “good life,” but for now it seems more trips to RVMC are in order. Friday I was feeling the effects of what I thought was too much sun, and not enough H2O. Little did I know something more sinister was waiting around the corner. At about 2:30AM I awoke to a clatter in my brain. A pounding so sharp accompanied by blinding lights that I thought Sarah had accidently hit me with a baseball bat while I was asleep. My personal Dr/wife came to my rescue by reassuring me she had not pounded me, and offered me some sleeping assistance medication. A warm glass of milk, and a few hours later with no sleep and only more stabbing pain, Sarah organized a drop off point for our kiddos and off to the hospital we went to try to ease the pain before my eyes exploded from my head. At the registration desk I was asked if I had ever been to RVMC before. I remember laughing. Not a maniacal evil laugh because it was funny, more a laugh of the unavoidable irony. After many hours and a battery of tests, the pain was just as excruciating, but the hospital meds left me unable to move and sleepy as could be. So I dozed between tests and questions and stabbing pangs throughout my entire body. They even called in the neuro surgeon guy to look me over.

While I was sleeping the sleep of a drugged man, Sarah took a break from the ER and took our youngest, Haven, up to visit her Grandpa. Apparently dad was super excited to see her and requested a snuggle. Haven didn’t mind obliging one bit.

Late Saturday night they released me to go home with what they classified as a “non specific headache.” No visit to RVMC is complete without a tour of Dad’s floor and an old fashioned handlebar mustached howdy, so before we left we journeyed to the 6th floor for a visit. Evidently I even posed for a pic with dad. I’m the one with the orange sweatshirt and the silly drugged smile. Uh, the guy with the blanket in my lap to keep me warm...um, how about the one without sunglasses on. :-)

After a groggy Sunday and Monday I feel better. Kinda. Mostly like I was run through an old fashioned clothes dryer. My personal physician/wife says its due to overwhelming amounts of stress from keeping tabs on dad, my grandma passing away, life spinning by, and any other forms of stress I can add to my bag. I just think she’s nuts and I keep looking for her hidden baseball bat. Perhaps I could take a vacation from this so called thing called stress.