Woah. Tomorrow will mark the commencement of my fifth week here. I had not been out of my room in almost exactly a month...until this morning. I told, Pat, my nurse today that I didn't sleep real well last night due to the loud partying of the nurses in the break room (located next door to my room). These women are amazing and work extremely hard and certainly deserve to have some fun but at 1am, 3am, 5am, 7am?! If you're not going to invite me to the festivities, at least keep it down to a dull roar! Apparently last night was one of the first nights in a couple of weeks that the floor hasn't been packed with laboring mamas. Pat responded to my subtle complaints with an immediate and overwhelming response. She decided that since the floor was so quiet, it was time that I have a change of scenery...a permament change of scenery. I've been moved into the room next door (my discharged pen pal's room for those of you closely following the Jenny-in-hospital Saga). What's scary is that in only one month's time I've turned into one of those weird recluse people who hasn't left their house in over a year. I started to feel really unsettled and nervous as she began moving my piled-up belongings out of the room. I suppose that when you've stared at the same surroundings for 28 days, it's normal to feel all discombobulated when you're chucked out of that space with no time to mentally prepare. That's understandable, right? Yeah, but still weird.

I got to WALK out of my room and around the corner into my next room. Sadly, that's the longest distance that I've walked in a month. Dad asked if I had to have a security escort to make sure that I didn't try to make a break for it. Sadly, no -- the thought didn't even cross my mind as I was too busy trying to take in my brief view of the foreign 'outside world' (i.e. the hospital hallway).

Anyway, I have a new phone number which I shan't share with you here as any old freaky could read my blog and decide to become my new bestfriend. So, if you do want that info you can get it from Mike or my parental units. My new digs are nice -- actually bigger and better than my previous room. But it's totally flipped around! My bed is facing the opposite direction, and the bathroom is located on the 'wrong' side of the room! (Hey! I fully admitted that it's weird how I'm all 'off' because of this). But I do have more storage space and TWO big windows with a view of Mt. Rainier (if it were clear and not grey and rainy then I could actually see it!) and a much better view of the construction crane (which will not only provide me with some entertainment but Matthew as well). There are two foot pedals to turn the water on in the sink which has proved to be exciting for Matthew and stressful and mildly annoying for the rest of us. When the boys came to see me today for lunch, Matthew looked a bit confused. I said, 'It's a different room, isn't it?' And Matthew responded, 'Different mommy!' I reassured him that I'm the same mommy just in a different room, but perhaps he could see through my calm facade to how 'different' my new digs make me feel! No worries. I think I'm handling the change fairly well and will not be requiring a visit from the hospital psychiatrist anytime soon. Besides, if moving to the room next door makes me feel this wonky, imagine what a trip to the psych ward would do!