Seven years ago, when I had surgery for ovarian cancer, I spent four days in the hospital hooked to a morphine drip on a moveable stand. I named the apparatus George.
I am always restless in a hospital setting, so to pass time I would walk in the halls, George on one side and Earl on the other.
Fast forward to this month, when I had surgery for breast cancer. It was an outpatient procedure, and I was sent home with a drain. Little did I know this drain would be more annoying than the morphine drip. And be with me longer too.
It’s been two weeks and one day since my surgery, and the drain is nowhere near being removed. It limits movement on the right side of my body and cannot be gotten wet, which also limits bathing. And hair washing. And other various daily activities. In hindsight, I preferred George.
But, since this drain and I are attached at the shoulder for the foreseeable future, I am naming it Duane. Duane the drain caused today to be only a 5.