The Brookshier In Me

Well, after 2 episodes of the Brookshier in me coming out, I was once again Little Mary Sunshine.

Normally, I am the most cooperative, nicest patient anyone could hope for. But I can only be pushed so far.

One day, after Griselda (the CNA with sense) had solved my catheter pain problem, I awoke from the most glorious nap. No blaring TV, no pooping and sobbing....it was the sleep of a contented baby.

Then, a few minutes later I had a full blown anxiety attack. I'd never had one before. I was convinced I was dying. My heart was going to explode.

I hit the call button and got a CNA. I told her I thought I was having a heart attack and she told me "Your medication nurse will be here in a little while."

My response was (loudly)....."Get somebody with their machines in here NOW, I'm having a f***ing heart attack!"

Next thing I knew, I had about 6 people around me. I finally calmed down with the help of Junior, a CNA who was also known as Superman.

I knew I was going to be ok when I felt that my biggest problem was how my mother would have been appalled at my language.

A day or so later, when I still had no TV, no phone, and the wrong bed, I was fed up. The nurses station down the hall a bit heard me shout "Y'all ain't seen nothin' til you've seen a pissed off Texan with a headache!"

About that time, Michelle, my caregiver, was on her way in the door and caught the end of a conversation between two women about "that woman in 21A". She covered her eyes and thought, "Oh no...what has Cyndi done now?"

I never got the TV, and still had to share the phone, but the right bed made a lot of difference in my level of pain, so I found my Southern charm and became sweet Cyndi again.