and you’ll be sore for several weeks, but I’m ordering you pain medication now so you’ll be comfortable. Questions.”
“She’s going to be okay?” my mom asked. “Yes. If the bleeding worsens, surgery will be necessary,
but based on the radiologist’s report, I think that’s very unlikely.
As liver lacerations go, this is about as good as they get. Your daughter is really quite lucky, in the scheme of things.”
“She’s going to be okay,” my mom said again. “As I said, we’ll keep a close eye on her for a couple days,
and then she’ll have about a week of bed rest. Within six or so weeks, she should be her old self.”
My mother dissolved into tears of gratitude as I turned over that phrase, her old self.
“Do I need antibiotics?” I asked. “You shouldn’t. If we had to do surgery, you would, but as of now, no.”
A shiver of relief rolled through me. No antibiotics. No increased risk of C. diff.
Just needed to get the hell out of here, then. The doctor asked me about my medications, and I told her.
She made some notes in the chart and then said, “Someone will be by shortly to take you upstairs,
and we’ll get you something for the pain before that.” “Wait,” I said. “What do you mean upstairs?”
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