The province no longer pays for rehab care which now must come out of pocket. Further, the hospital I'm at only uses certain rehab centres and won't refer me to the one I wanted to go to. They intend to keep me in hospital for a day, maybe two, three at most, and then send me home, confident in my ability to cope with stairs and cooking and toilets and what all. Also, from what the assistant said, surgeon is not big on pain relievers. Which is, well, fine: at home I have my anti-inflams and gin, and neither morphine nor percocet ever did anything for me in the past, and I have to wonder if anything could hurt as much as my knee and tendons do now. At home I have my own bed and no strangers making noises around me, which I was so not looking forward to. And if in fact I can't walk to their satisfaction, or rather my own, then I'll spring for the $150 a night rehab and hope it's not a cockroach infested dump.
And for all I know, by the time surgery spots open up we'll have hit our 1300 cases a day fourth wave and surgeries will close down. Only they didn't in May when the local playwright had her hip done and cases were at 1500.
When I went to register at the fracture clinic they had no record of me, in spite of me having filled out an online registration form and received an email confirming date and time. Then they sent me off to get x-rayed-- 'you'll be in the computer'-- and dear god what a trip. All I had to do was turn left at the desk and round a corner, but they sent me 'down the corridor as far as you can go and then the first door on your right and there it is' which took me to the lobby. Toronto Western has the worst signage of any hospital I've been in including St. Mike's: nothing telling you where anything is but the exits and the elevators. I asked two staff where the x-ray dep't was and a kind lady took me back-- to the fracture clinic. Because I only needed to go round the corner. To the x-ray department. Which had no record of me as a patient, let alone one needing x-rays. So they got that sorted, and x-rayed me, and took me off to a little office to wait for the assistant, who was not the person the email had said would be seeing me.
TWH has wifi and alas, I had a credit card in my wallet (normally I prudently leave it at home, upstairs, in an unremarkable box), and though I haven't had a drink in two weeks, and consequently dropped a kilo in spite of sandwiches (bread! and mayonnaise!) I put in an order for the large size Bombay Sapphire because I figured I'd need it by the time this was all over. Meum est propositum to stay slightly tiddly for at least the next week.