Welcome bar

"Teach me to run with scissors..."

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Weighty Issues of Weight, Urine, and Sleep

So, my story begins in room 936 at the University of Colorado Hospital.

The *NEW UPDATED* mailing address would be:

Raphael Biltz, Room 917
c/o University of Colorado Hospital
Mail Stop F771
Aurora, CO 80045
…in case you were wondering…you know…how to send me love…

But, you probably weren’t, so I’ll go on with my story.

Let me begin by saying that I have nothing but the utmost respect and appreciation for the nurses, CNAs, and the rest of the hospital staff here. They’re amazing. It may seem like I’m dogging on them in this post, but—you must remember—they’re just doing their jobs. It’s the person who decided the best time for them to weigh me is an hour after I’ve fallen asleep that I take issue with. Anyone who ACTUALLY dogs on nurses and CNAs just doesn’t know how hard they work.

Anyway, it was getting rather late, and I wasn’t tired. My nurse even commented a couple of times on how late I was staying up.
As of yet none of my actual nurses have been zombies...

Sometimes I stay up late.
Is that a crime?

Well, in a sense, yes. It is a crime against yourself… If you do not catch your winks before too late, you may have to go without. Hospitals are for the sick, not those in need of rest.

You see, at about 3:30 in the AM—after countless counting, knee bouncing, and wishing—I was finally able to go unconscious.

At about 4:20 in the same AM the CAN walked in… with a beeping machine…

She wanted to attach this machine to my arm and my finger… and another one that she needed to run across my face… but I can forgive the quest for vital signs at night. It’s not too huge an imposition to deal with when they’re just trying to make sure none of their meds are killing you. Ya know? I like them keeping track.

Still, riddle me this: why must one be weighed in the middle of the night?

On this same very early morning the CNA woke me up to say: “I have to weigh you. Do you want to do that now?”

Well, I was awake anyway—and the gods seemed to want me always weighed at night—so I got up… and got weighed. But I’m still curious: Why at night? It’s always at night. They never schedule your daily weigh-in for morning, or afternoon. It’s always at night.

I suppose someone might say that various factors may fluctuate one’s weight during the day, and that—without a lot of food in your stomach—they’ll get a truer weight on you at four in the morning.

But at four in the morning? Is the plus or minus two-ish pounds really going to make a difference?
“Holy cow! He weighs 117, not 115! We have to stop everything now, and put him on a strict diet of tapioca and olive oil!”
Dude, I can't think of a witty caption...

Yes, I weigh about 115… laugh at my skinniness now, punk. When you realize you’re you, you’ll be wishing I weren’t me. >:)

(Or something like that…)

She typed my vital information and weight into the computer then, “You drink a lot of fluids last night?” She asked.

I thought for a moment Last night? Like, four hours ago, last night, or twenty-four hours ago, last night? Why at night? Do I count what I drank during the day? There’s not enough information here!

“Yeah.” I said.

“How many times you pee?”

How many times? Since when? Does she means how many times do I pee on average? Are we still on the last night shtick? Does she mean how many times last night, or how many times SINCE last night? Or are we talking about the last few hours? (When it’s technically morning, and you’re working with the graveyard shift, it can get confusing what is meant by terms like “last night.”)

This seemed to satisfy her want of urine intel.

Good enough to stop the questions.

She packed up her loud machines, and exited the room.

. . .

And, now I had to pee.


Going to the bathroom is no small feat when you have an IV in one arm, attached to a pole (that must be brought with you) and have an oxygen tube you must keep on your face that is plugged into the wall opposite the bathroom.

I guess I was awake anyway…

Let the countless counting, knee bouncing, and wishing begin anew.


As per the usual, go do some evil.