I didn’t want to share a room. I had to share with a woman who complained loudly three times per hour that she had to use the restroom. I didn’t want a bed nearest the door. I was bed #1. I wanted to wear a bra. My husband took the bra I had worn into the hospital home with him, along with my shoes and clothes. I wanted a shower. I couldn’t shower due to the wound vac. I wanted to brush my teeth. I was given toothpaste and a toothbrush. Score 1 for Kindra!
My surgeon came in on day 2 and said, “You look great, Kindra!
I was like, “Dude. Thanks, but I’m married.”
He laughed, then replied, “I mean you can go home tomorrow.”