Hospital in the home

It takes a lot. A lot to get me home. I'd bet that I'd be in hospital still if it wasn't for the fact that my infected wound is now less interesting to the medical team. From a nursing perspective, being in hospital makes sense. 

The district nurse couldn't come until the pharmacy couriered over my antibiotics (specially made up in Auckland and sent to the hospital).

When she arrived she told me she was further delayed due to trying to understand the discharge info and having to create a file with sections for my paperwork.

Then she bought in the stuff

This excludes the chilli bin of vacuum infusers containing vancymicin (it infuses over 24 hours) and the bag of vials with my other antibiotic.

The appointment took an hour, tomorrow it will probably take longer as I have a dreaded wound change.

The nurse is already trying to get #1 husband to administer the drugs one day in the weekend....apparently patients are often taught how to do this when it is a regular occurrence.

My uncool 24/7 companions. 

The house looks like a fricken hospital. 

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The children are getting used to me being at home. The youngest though felt like checking around 2:30am!