I really don't think I've ever been as ecstatic, thrilled and grateful to walk through the front door of my home as I was this weekend. We left the hospital and I practically ran out of the place. They did a fantastic job of caring for the LB, and it was important to me to keep my mood upbeat and my face smiley while we were there, but you know what the hospital is like. I was feeling positive about his surgery, though; if it worked, it gets one anatomical problem out of the way and will make it easier to focus on the larger issues of kidney function, metabolic health and overall health and growth, all of which will need to be watched and monitored for the rest of his life. Having good doctors for him now, and hopefully right through childhood and adolescence, means the world to us.
He was such a good little patient and everyone loved him. The housekeeping woman told him that he had pretty eyes and that she wanted to take him out with her on a Sunday to show him off. He was bashful but I think he liked it. Doctors and nurses told him he was smart and well-spoken and that he seemed much older than nine. Between the compliments and the cable television and the unlimited cups of juice (we don't have either of those at home), he had some good distractions and made a satisfactory recovery, at least by hospitalization standards.
Now at home, the recovery continues, and it hasn't been easy. He's in a lot of pain. We've set him up on the couch in the family room. The end seats of the couch recline, so he's been laying back in his seat with a small table pushed up beside him where he keeps his water bottle, books, tablet and writing materials. He has done a little math work, which seemed to make him fall asleep, so we haven't pushed it. We take walks through the house and around the backyard, arm in arm - he needs support for walking right now. He sat outside on the patio last night with Penny Hen on the chair with him while the Bear grilled hamburgers for dinner. At least it's nice out, and we've had wonderful cloudy afternoons and evening storms. Fresh air does him good and he sure loves his chickens. Inside, we're watching movies and food shows. He reads the newspaper comics on the tablet every day. He's enjoying the forbidden luxuries of juice and jello. He's getting there.
It's not really about me, of course, but I'm so glad to be home. I ate and slept very little in the hospital. I've been very grateful for wholesome food and my own bed, which has never seemed so comfortable. My days are packed at home, there's no time to get bored with the catheter care, medications, temperature checks, incision checks, bathing and other general care activities. It's okay. I actually really like to take care of sick people. I never considered it when I was younger, but I would probably have made a good nurse. The GB helps a lot, little sweetheart. That's especially good as I have my work cut out for me this week while the Bear travels to Washington, DC. He won't be back until Friday, and since I can't go out right now, I shopped yesterday and laid in lots of food. I have a full Netflix streaming queue, library books I haven't read yet and plenty of yarn to knot. In between care cycles, and at night, I'll have plenty of time for me.
Thank you so much for the get-well wishes and lovely, kind comments over the past few days. They mean so much to me. It was a delight to have your comments to read in the hospital. They made a hard situation a little bit easier. It was comforting. I'm sorry to say that my blog feeds are a lost cause at the moment; I'm just going to start over when I have more time. I'm determined to keep blogging as I can while we work through this; the routine and normalcy helps a lot. I look forward to getting back to reading blogs too. Thanks again for your kind words. I hope your week is getting off to a good start.