It's a Diuretic


I'm sure it is no surprise that upon waking up from brain surgery I had a bit of a headache (to say the least), and I was somewhat cranky. They kept me in the ICU for a couple of days after the surgery. Honestly, I don't remember much from this time because I take a long time to wake up from anesthesia and I was on a lot of painkillers. One thing I distinctly remember about staying in the hospital is that they never let you sleep peacefully through the night. Even when recovering from brain surgery ever hour or two nurses are in there poking around, taking vitals and whatever else.


It was some time in the middle of the night after my surgery that two nurses came into my room to give me a bath. They were talking as they entered my room. The one nurse, a full figured black woman, seemed to be quizzing the other, a young white male. Even though I was so tired and out of it, I couldn't help listening to their conversation. She was asking medical questions like, “When do you use this?” Or, “What does this drug do? Etc.” This went on while I was getting my bath, which was an odd experience by itself. They had these enormous wet wipes, and they rolled me around while wiping down my entire body. I had my eyes closed through most of it so I assume they thought I was still asleep, but I was really just hoping they would hurry up and let me get back to sleep. At on point the woman asked, “What is Lasix, and what does it do?” I knew this question was not for me but the male nurse paused to think about it, and the answer slipped from my mouth.


“It's a diuretic.” I said with a tone and subtext that sounded like, “Dumbass.” They both stopped and looked at me.


“I know. I knew that.” The male nurse tried to recover. “I was just trying to think of what kind of diuretic.” The female nurse had a smirk on her face. If the tone of my response to her student was 'dumbass,' I think the tone of her expression toward me was 'smartass.'

     Side note: I would like to say that upon waking from an eight hour brain surgery and three blood transfusions that my first words were something profound and spiritual. Well, they weren't. In fact I think I said something like, “I hate everyone” or, “I hate the world.” My father, mother, boyfriend, and my father's best friend, Mr. P, were all there when I woke up and spit out that awful sentence. They all took a step back from me like I was about to self destruct. I have always felt a little bad about that.

I hope they all know how much I appreciated them being there. I wanted to say a special thank you to to Mr. P, who is not a blood relative, he is not biologically hardwired to love me but he does anyway. I have been meaning to send a thank you note for years! I'm so glad you were there. Thank you for being a buffer when needed and a dose of comic relief. :)

Latest comments

05.11 | 16:12

I am so sorry you had to experience this, Becky. But one thing no stinking fire can take away from you is this: You're an awesome writer. Keep on producing!!

15.04 | 16:00

You are the first person that I have heard from that has this bugger! feel free to reach out to me in the contact me section. Limited response in this section

15.04 | 03:48

Wow. IHow are you doing with the Teratocarcinosarcoma. I was diagnosed with it last September.

15.11 | 18:32

Wow! What an inspirational story! I hope that you continue to share. And for those that don't get it. Try and fit in her shoes one day.