He lives. He breathes. He computes! He has gone from:
Still a few kinks to work out as far as managing the pain, but the worst seems to be behind him. He’s still very tired but getting stronger every day. Today he even asked for his laptop, so he can’t be far from running the empire once again. And despite the post-op fogginess and pain med grogginess, he continues to beat me at Scrabble. I understand this might say more about my Scrabble skills than his and am duly humbled.
The real fun has now commenced, however. Way better than losing at Scrabble. For the next fourteen days, I have the distinct pleasure of sticking him daily with a needle! If you haven’t been worried about the direction health care is going, be very afraid now because in our Brave New World, they discharge you from the hospital with a prescription for home-administered anti-coagulent injections. (Translation: we can’t be bothered to do this for you, so hopefully someone you know can figure out the instructions to give you a subcutaneous injection without severing an artery or screwing up and letting you get a big fat blood clot.) This provides a significant incentive for marital harmony, since you never really know when you’re going to end up on the receiving end of one of these needles.
That said, the CE is still on the fence as to whether he would rather have me or the lovely young hospital volunteer, Tanya, looking after him in his hours of need. He is one bad joke away from being the recipient of a needle someplace he REALLY won’t enjoy.
Tomorrow we head back home to the chicken/dog/cat/bird farm, where we hear things are running very smoothly thanks to Alexandra and Victoria. We are so grateful for their help and for the wonderful emails, texts, calls, flowers, gift baskets and light bulb changes received on the CE’s behalf.
On Thursday, we will head back to LA for a post-op appointment and (hopefully) a change-out of the Big Foot cast. We’re told the next step is a fiberglass version that permits greater mobility and maybe even a shower.
We think the worst of it is in the rear view mirror. Here’s to putting the best foot forward to recovery!