Housebound and a pee cup story

I'm housebound and bored out of my brain.
Actual surgery was okay, I had my little button of morphine I could press when the light was on and I was  indulged another hit.

Pre surgery I had to pee into a little cup as seems to be standard procedure but I'm not entirely sure why. Being the good Samaritan I am I obliged and proceeded to give the closed cup a wash over with water as no one likes to get pee on their hands. Unfortunately maybe I washed a little too vigorously as I started to erase the information on the cup which determined that the pee belonged to me. Luckily I was provided with a brown paper bag for modesty's sake of my pee and since my name was still visible I didn't say anything to the nurse.
While we're on the subject of embarrassing urine stories, I had my first bedpan experience. I didn't think this would happen to me, the first nurse wheeled me IV drip, morphine and all into the bathroom so I had some privacy. Unfortunately it was all a bit hard for the other nurses and one tried to get me to use the bedpan. Um that was my body's deal breaker apparently. That was just not going to happen.
Can I also state the obvious right now and say nurses don't get paid enough. The grandmother next flimsy sheet divider door was complaining about the nurses to her children often for the approximately 30 hours I was in hospital (I didn't complain about her midnight flatulence problem nor the fact that she kept the TV on all night. Needless to say after being woken up every 4 hours for antibiotics as well as Granny's shenanigans I did not get a good nights sleep). I wanted to scream at her: You're in a public hospital. Your operation was paid for by the tax payers and you are complaining that a nurse didn't come quick enough to get a bedpan for you! Sheesh.

Otherwise for me, the pain has not been too bad. I'm back at home and have some 'hillbilly heroin' as it's apparently known on the streets (maybe not by those that buy or sell it). It's just all so awkward. I'm bandaged up from ankle to high thigh and then a tube sock over that and it won't be coming off for another seven days. Hello plastic bag showers.

But I am so sick of laying on the couch. I'm loving that I finally get to watch True Blood, I'm catching up on United States of Tara and I think I'm fulfilling my reality trash TV quota with America's Next Top Model and Tabatha's Salon Takeovers.
But aside from making my eyes go square what can I take up? I learnt to knit from my Nanna many moons ago but I think I actually need her to start and finish a line for me (and I've just realised this entry seems to have way too many drug references) so maybe I cannot actually knit.

I'm reading The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas which is about what happens when a man smacks an unrelated young child at a barbecue and the implications this brings to the people at the barbecue, the aftermath told from many different points of view. Really interesting so far, won a lot of awards and I believe is being turned into a mini series with Melissa George to be shown on TV soon.

Man I'm beginning to wish I could quilt.