I went back home today.
Okay… so I’m not supposed to. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. The doctor’s specifically told me “Don’t go back home!” But I did anyways.
I’m not a rebel trying to break the rules or anything. I just want to go back home.
You read how miserable I was in the hospital. Now they want me to stay in a nearby housing facility for 3 months? No way.
When I was in the hospital in December, a doctor told me, “You heal faster at home.” He’s right. At home you’re more comfortable, so you automatically feel better.
After everything, I just want to find some comfort. I just want to snuggle in bed (although those hot & cold sensations might not allow) and watch some YouTube on my phone.
The reason I’m not supposed to go home is that in case of an emergency, I have to be close to the hospital. It’s been a day since I was discharged from the hospital, so maybe I should’ve waited a day or two. If there’s a time to have an emergency, it would be now.
ANYWAYS, I had no emergency today. At home, I snuggled and watched YouTube. I loved it. I don’t want to stay at the Ronald McDonald House, I want to stay at my house.
We went back to the Ronald McDonald House at night. My Mom took care of some stuff, and I grabbed some clothes.