The Wanderer

It turns out that my patient is a bit of a wanderer.  Getting up and roaming immediately following surgery is a foreign concept for me, probably because the majority of my procedures have involved my leg and access to mobility. I was adequately prepared to help him manage his pain, his swelling and his dietary restrictions. I had the bed ready for his return and was anticipating a few days of running back and forth to tend to whatever needs arose. I wasn't prepared to play hide and seek with a disoriented and non-compliant patient!

My big explorer was easy to find. Not only was he slow and staggered in his pace, but he left a Hansel and Gretel type trail of blood marking his path. Needless to say, constantly cleaning my floors quickly became old. Reasoning with him was futile as he insisted that he was fine and was being "good." When I told him that he wasn't being "good," his little drugged face contorted and he almost cried. I tucked him back into bed and made him promise to stay still.  Not trusting his pledge, I put Robby on "Daddy watch," instructing him to squawk every time he tried to get out of bed.  Between Scott trying to roam and Robby ratting him out, our house was rather loud and chaotic.

It was during this time that Timmy decided to lock himself in our bathroom. I tried to release the lock but was unsuccessful. Between him screaming behind the locked door and Scott fumbling around trying to "help" (but only succeeding in leaving circular blood trails), I knew I needed to call in some reinforcements.  I sent Robby over to get Mr. Bill to help with the door.

After confirming that the door lock was indeed broken, Mr. Bill set out to free Timmy by removing the knob. I tucked Scott back into bed and cleaned the blood off the floor. Within a few minutes my red faced, scared little toddler was free from his bathroom prison. Thankfully the trauma was quickly forgotten after handing him two animal crackers.

Scott tried to get out of bed to walk Mr. Bill to the door. He was instructed to go back to bed with the threat of handcuffing him to the headboard if he doesn't listen. It was then that Mr. Bill offered to lend us his handcuffs which he claimed were "covered in satin and wouldn't leave a mark." With a knowing wink, he just said that he probably won't need them back for awhile because Shelly (name changed to protect her identity) was out of town. 

Between Scott wandering around the house with Robby squawking after him, Timmy locking himself in the bathroom and the image of Mr. Bill (a 76 year old man) using handcuffs with his girlfriend, my head was spinning.  I ended up consuming a bag of Hershey kisses for dinner as I waited for Scott's anesthesia confusion to wear off. He finally fell asleep around 7:30, waking only to request medication and water. Hopefully today my patient will actually rest or I may have to borrow those satin cuffs.