Friday the 13th! Today is very weird, not only because I woke up in a hospital, but because I have large gap in my memory of yesterday. I rely on my memory a great deal, having gaps is fairly distressing, even if I know why. In a way, it gives me a glimpse into why people with amnesia freak out so badly, it must be incredibly disorienting, frightening.

I have a private room, barely big enough for a typical hospital bed, IV line, chair for visitors, and sink/cabinet. A TV hangs high on the wall, and I have access to movies (fairly new: A Quantum of Solace is one of the choices), TV, and even the Internet. Without a keyboard, however, I will not be checking of sending emails. That’s probably just as well.

I don’t sleep, I nap for 30-45 mins at a time. With my door closed my room is actually pretty quiet, and I have enough morphine-equivalent in me to make sleeping easy . . . but I don’t actually sleep. I didn’t last night, and I’m not today. When I have company (my mom and J.) I occasionally just lose track and drift away. I can still hear them talking, but I don’t pay much attention, its soothing to know they are there, but I don’t feel like I need to participate.

Yesterday when they moved me into this bed was the first serious pain I’ve had — I was fairly well jostled as they ‘slid’ me from bed to bed, and the pain spike drove right through me. I wanted to curl up, and only force of will kept me at full length (I knew it would hurt worse if I didn’t lie straight). I tried desperately to breathe to relax, but (ironically) the pain meds interfered. So, it hurt a LOT.

I just looked at J’s twitter feed and I can tell you this: I remember essentially nothing from 1:30pm 11/12 until being wheeled into my room around 8pm. What do I remember? Getting out of a wheelchair and onto a surgical table, being helped to lie down. (ed. note: and this is NOT a true memory. I was wheeled from pre-op in the same bed I’d been lying in all day.) There was music playing. A woman was laying out surgical instruments on a table on the back wall. The room was chilly. A Woman and a man helped me onto the table. The man talked to me. The next thing? I was in recovery with a woman checking in on me and going in and out of consciousness.

In its own way, that is fairly frightening. I’m sure its a good thing. But I hate that I can’t remember.

The big thing for me right now is that I have two drains. They need to be emptied 3x/day, and the contents measured. The med staff here keep trying to show me how to do it, and I refuse. J will do it for me. It’s silly, but I just can’t cope with the reality of the drains right now. I also can’t really look down at my chest, I have no curiosity to peek under my gown. None.

I can tell you this: When I got a glimpse of J. through the doorway (they weren’t ready for him to come in yet) it made me very happy. I knew it was all going to be all right when I saw him. That was my first smile.