Well, in a totally welcome, but slightly surprising move, Blaine was released from the hospital today. His doctor had initially predicted Wednesday, then re-projected Tuesday if things were going well. Over the weekend, they removed the last of his drain tubes and his feeding tube. Once they saw this morning that he was eating and drinking enough on his own, plus could manage his meds orally, they decided to remove his staples and his PICC line and send him home. Well, as “home” as you can get when you’re clear across the country.
I just *knew* that once they began to control his pain appropriately, he could do the rest for himself. Even in the hospital, the guy is slightly type-A and has trouble sitting still. And, everyone knows you don’t go to a hospital to rest OR get well. Too many interruptions for that. He paces, fidgets, and walks the halls. It’s always easier to be in a hotel without the constant disruption.
His comment, once we found out we would be returning to the hotel this afternoon, was “Good, now I can get some rest … you know, relax for a change.”
Since leaving the hospital, he has done the following: check e-mail, watch ten minutes of football, take a shower, and lie beside me snoring loud enough to wake the dead. (To be fair, it’s not restful sleep since he has so much trouble breathing through the swelling and tissue grafting in his mouth …. Truth be told, he’s already woken up twice while I’ve been typing this. But for the few moments he DOES sleep, my goodness, the snoring is unbelievable.)
Since leaving the hospital, *I* have done the following: unpack suitcase, put away hospital stuff, walk to pharmacy to drop off prescriptions, walk to grocery store, dragging an empty suitcase behind me, to buy enough soft foods (mashed potatoes, yogurt, applesauce, Boost, etc) to get Blaine through the next few days, walk back to hotel, dragging full suitcase behind me, unpack groceries, walk back to pharmacy, prescriptions not ready yet, walk back to hotel, fill ice bucket, go get package from front desk (yeah, Renee’!) walk back to pharmacy one final time to pick up prescriptions, walk back to hotel, crush Blaine’s pills, explain medication schedule to Blaine …. again ….. get Blaine a drink, get Blaine some food, remove dressing from wound on arm (OHMYGAWD I’ll have to show you a picture of the harvest site later, when I get back home and have my digital capabilities again) apply waterproof adhesive for shower, remove waterproof adhesive, re-apply medicated dressing, re-bandage arm, fix his splint and fluff his pillows. Not necessarily in that order, but you get the picture.
I should mention that we left the hospital with TWELVE written prescriptions for medication. Pain meds, antibiotics, oral rinses, numbing agents, blood thinners, digestive medications, et. al. The pharmacist had a question regarding two of the prescriptions and had to talk to the doctor before she could fill them. Then, filling twelve prescriptions takes time. A lot of time. One hour and forty-five minutes, to be exact. That’s how long I sat at Walgreens, waiting, not wanting to make a FOURTH trip back to the hotel. Running errands on foot, it’s a foreign concept to me, and one which makes me grateful I am a suburbanite.
So I sat, and waited. And waited. And waited some more.
And while I was waiting, I bought a Redbook magazine and ate another box of Russell Stover caramels.
So, by the end of this ordeal, Blaine? Will be rested and relaxed. And I? Will weigh 800 pounds.
Not relevant to anything but I promise I’m not making this up: The person in the hotel room next to ours is practicing an accordion. For the past three hours, that’s all we’ve heard, is accordion music. At first it was funny. Then it was a little confusing. Now we’re honing in on 10 pm and all I can say is Lawrence Freaking Welk better knock it off pretty soon or I’ll be banging on the wall with a broomstick handle.