April 26, 2006 (11:54am)
Okay, now for the next stream-of-consciousness entry.
WE’VE GOT MAIL! Thanks, Debra, and Judy and Stan – your cards made it to the Marriott. And the other cards made it to the TBICU: Debra, the Nyikos’s, the Carolinas Topology Seminar, Justin Moore, the Szulgas, the Kuperbergs (thanks for the CD – Mary Jane said she is getting a player to us), Ralph and Norma Grotelueschen (relatives of Gary’s, as you might guess from the name ;-)), Mirko’s, Mary Ellen’s, the Smiths, Randy Holmes and Liza Weisbrod, and another one from Gary’s mom, which included a cute picture of Gary as a, in her words, “one-and-three-quarter- year-old” (actually, Mom G, since that was a Christmas picture, he would have been one and five-sixths, less a day ;-)). We spent this morning composing a letter to his sister, Norma. He was supposed to go on a cruise with them to Alaska in two months, but he feels there is no way that is going to happen. The letter isn’t finished yet – he is insisting on writing it out left-handed, even though I told him if he pointed the letters out, I would write the letter. He should learn to take me up on my transcription skills while they are still being offered ;-) Anyway, we’ll probably finish the letter this afternoon. Just as I was to leave he wanted the Sudoku book, so thanks again to his grad students for bringing that.
Gary is looking healthier, has more color in his face now. When I came in he was hooked up at the trachea to some kind of machine that made noises like a steam locomotive. It’s supposed to shake up his lungs to help break up the secretions (not being technically correct here, I’m sure). The weaning process is taking longer than he’d hoped. They put him on the trachea collar again last night, hoping to keep him on for 2 hours, but had to put him back on the ventilator after thirty minutes because he was having difficulty. I was told it could take up to two weeks to wean him, but I know Gary had been hoping for the minimum time of two-three days. We have learned to preface everything the nurses tell us with “maybe” – like that he was going to be moved out of ICU, or that he is getting a lighter cast on his hand, or that they’re going to adjust the bed so his legs can drop down into a more of a sitting position. One person will tell us one thing is going to happen, and the next thing we know they will say it isn’t. Personally I wish they wouldn’t do that. It seems like getting his hopes up and then dashing them. He wrote me that he understands that a lot of different people are coordinating this. Like with letting his legs drop – the orthopedic guys say it’s okay, and then the neurosurgery people say no.
I heard from Auburn Eye Care that his new glasses are ready and they will UPS them to me. What happened to the glasses he was wearing at the time of the accident, I have no idea. Neither of the emergency rooms (first Auburn, then Birmingham) have any record of them. When I went to clean out his car, I looked around for them as best I could, but they were no place I had access to. They could have flown off and gotten wedged between the front passenger seat and the divider, but that area is so crunched together I couldn’t put my hand in to find out. Another mystery is what happened to his keys. He claims they were in the pants he was wearing, but the emergency room only salvaged his wallet, belt, and watch – his clothing had to be cut from him, so wasn’t saved. I did manage to find an old pair of glasses of his when I was home that Monday, so he hasn’t been too bad off that way. I’d be miserable without my glasses, since I would have to put things about 4 inches from my nose to read them, and people would remain a blur.
They are opening a Starbucks on the first floor of his hospital wing on May 9th, so hopefully by then I can sneak in a latte for him – yes, I know this sentence just appears stuck in.
One of the people who is in a similar boat as me (his wife was in a car accident) jokingly calls me “our leader.” I have the time down so I always arrive a few minutes before they are to let us in (tho they are often late in doing so), and then I march up to the front of the door to the ICU and plant myself so I am the first one in. Then I barrel down the hall when they give the okay. Outta my way, folks. Gotta get there before the selfish people do, as my older sister says. But they fooled me this morning, and opened a few minutes early, and some other people beat me in. That blew my track record for being first off the block, but being small I squeezed by them and still managed to pull ahead at the finish.
This speed reference reminds me. The elevator at the hotel is the slowest one in existence. I and others make jokes about it, commenting that we should have brought something for entertainment to pass the time until we get to our floor. I have received condolences for being on the sixth floor. The experience of traveling in it was even more delightful when my mother was here. The elevator makes this loud obnoxious beeping sound ever time it passes the floor. My mom decided to imitate the sound ever time she heard it. Great. Like standing next to the Road Runner on sedatives.
A couple people wondered if I got bored here (which really made me wonder if I was boring them with my writing. JUST KIDDING, I know that’s not what you meant. I hope). I am not. I am a slow writer, so it takes me quite a while to compose these updates. I am behind in my emails to people. Plus there are always little things that crop up that have to be taken care of, related to house and home, or little errands to be run. I have finally found a massage therapist who will work on me in her home, 5 minutes away. (One of the reasons I am looking forward to my little sister visiting next week, I admit, is that she is a massage therapist, and I plan to take advantage of her skills – and so is Gary!) Mary Jane recommended a chiropractor, and I am debating whether or not to go to her. It would be about a 20 minute trip, and I’m a little bit wary of having to travel that far and thereby ruining any adjustment she makes. There are a couple of acupuncturists listed in the yellow pages and I need to check their websites. When things get more settled, I plan to return to working on the mystery story I have been writing. I can’t focus on it now, as it takes a good deal of concentration, and I am not up for it. Probably even before then, I will return to critiquing stories written by my fellow members in my writing critique group. That will keep me busy – Jamie has written a story that is about 1200 pages long, and is willing to have the installments sent up with my mail. It is a wonderful story, and I have so enjoyed critiquing it. It is in the fantasy genre, which never before held any interest for me, but I couldn’t put her story down. All four times I’ve been through it (wink to Jamie). AND AS OF TODAY I HAVE MY SEASON 3 REMINGTON STEELE DVDs! Yes, I know, you’re thrilled. I am looking forward to watching them to unwind. I am debating on whether to save some of the eps and subjecting Gary to them – oops, I mean, offering to let him watch them with me. It’s not like he can voice any complaints. And if he pounds on the bed, I can just put that down to involuntary muscle spasms. (Sorry, a little black humor.)
All for now.
Okay, now for the next stream-of-consciousness entry.
WE’VE GOT MAIL! Thanks, Debra, and Judy and Stan – your cards made it to the Marriott. And the other cards made it to the TBICU: Debra, the Nyikos’s, the Carolinas Topology Seminar, Justin Moore, the Szulgas, the Kuperbergs (thanks for the CD – Mary Jane said she is getting a player to us), Ralph and Norma Grotelueschen (relatives of Gary’s, as you might guess from the name ;-)), Mirko’s, Mary Ellen’s, the Smiths, Randy Holmes and Liza Weisbrod, and another one from Gary’s mom, which included a cute picture of Gary as a, in her words, “one-and-three-quarter- year-old” (actually, Mom G, since that was a Christmas picture, he would have been one and five-sixths, less a day ;-)). We spent this morning composing a letter to his sister, Norma. He was supposed to go on a cruise with them to Alaska in two months, but he feels there is no way that is going to happen. The letter isn’t finished yet – he is insisting on writing it out left-handed, even though I told him if he pointed the letters out, I would write the letter. He should learn to take me up on my transcription skills while they are still being offered ;-) Anyway, we’ll probably finish the letter this afternoon. Just as I was to leave he wanted the Sudoku book, so thanks again to his grad students for bringing that.
Gary is looking healthier, has more color in his face now. When I came in he was hooked up at the trachea to some kind of machine that made noises like a steam locomotive. It’s supposed to shake up his lungs to help break up the secretions (not being technically correct here, I’m sure). The weaning process is taking longer than he’d hoped. They put him on the trachea collar again last night, hoping to keep him on for 2 hours, but had to put him back on the ventilator after thirty minutes because he was having difficulty. I was told it could take up to two weeks to wean him, but I know Gary had been hoping for the minimum time of two-three days. We have learned to preface everything the nurses tell us with “maybe” – like that he was going to be moved out of ICU, or that he is getting a lighter cast on his hand, or that they’re going to adjust the bed so his legs can drop down into a more of a sitting position. One person will tell us one thing is going to happen, and the next thing we know they will say it isn’t. Personally I wish they wouldn’t do that. It seems like getting his hopes up and then dashing them. He wrote me that he understands that a lot of different people are coordinating this. Like with letting his legs drop – the orthopedic guys say it’s okay, and then the neurosurgery people say no.
I heard from Auburn Eye Care that his new glasses are ready and they will UPS them to me. What happened to the glasses he was wearing at the time of the accident, I have no idea. Neither of the emergency rooms (first Auburn, then Birmingham) have any record of them. When I went to clean out his car, I looked around for them as best I could, but they were no place I had access to. They could have flown off and gotten wedged between the front passenger seat and the divider, but that area is so crunched together I couldn’t put my hand in to find out. Another mystery is what happened to his keys. He claims they were in the pants he was wearing, but the emergency room only salvaged his wallet, belt, and watch – his clothing had to be cut from him, so wasn’t saved. I did manage to find an old pair of glasses of his when I was home that Monday, so he hasn’t been too bad off that way. I’d be miserable without my glasses, since I would have to put things about 4 inches from my nose to read them, and people would remain a blur.
They are opening a Starbucks on the first floor of his hospital wing on May 9th, so hopefully by then I can sneak in a latte for him – yes, I know this sentence just appears stuck in.
One of the people who is in a similar boat as me (his wife was in a car accident) jokingly calls me “our leader.” I have the time down so I always arrive a few minutes before they are to let us in (tho they are often late in doing so), and then I march up to the front of the door to the ICU and plant myself so I am the first one in. Then I barrel down the hall when they give the okay. Outta my way, folks. Gotta get there before the selfish people do, as my older sister says. But they fooled me this morning, and opened a few minutes early, and some other people beat me in. That blew my track record for being first off the block, but being small I squeezed by them and still managed to pull ahead at the finish.
This speed reference reminds me. The elevator at the hotel is the slowest one in existence. I and others make jokes about it, commenting that we should have brought something for entertainment to pass the time until we get to our floor. I have received condolences for being on the sixth floor. The experience of traveling in it was even more delightful when my mother was here. The elevator makes this loud obnoxious beeping sound ever time it passes the floor. My mom decided to imitate the sound ever time she heard it. Great. Like standing next to the Road Runner on sedatives.
A couple people wondered if I got bored here (which really made me wonder if I was boring them with my writing. JUST KIDDING, I know that’s not what you meant. I hope). I am not. I am a slow writer, so it takes me quite a while to compose these updates. I am behind in my emails to people. Plus there are always little things that crop up that have to be taken care of, related to house and home, or little errands to be run. I have finally found a massage therapist who will work on me in her home, 5 minutes away. (One of the reasons I am looking forward to my little sister visiting next week, I admit, is that she is a massage therapist, and I plan to take advantage of her skills – and so is Gary!) Mary Jane recommended a chiropractor, and I am debating whether or not to go to her. It would be about a 20 minute trip, and I’m a little bit wary of having to travel that far and thereby ruining any adjustment she makes. There are a couple of acupuncturists listed in the yellow pages and I need to check their websites. When things get more settled, I plan to return to working on the mystery story I have been writing. I can’t focus on it now, as it takes a good deal of concentration, and I am not up for it. Probably even before then, I will return to critiquing stories written by my fellow members in my writing critique group. That will keep me busy – Jamie has written a story that is about 1200 pages long, and is willing to have the installments sent up with my mail. It is a wonderful story, and I have so enjoyed critiquing it. It is in the fantasy genre, which never before held any interest for me, but I couldn’t put her story down. All four times I’ve been through it (wink to Jamie). AND AS OF TODAY I HAVE MY SEASON 3 REMINGTON STEELE DVDs! Yes, I know, you’re thrilled. I am looking forward to watching them to unwind. I am debating on whether to save some of the eps and subjecting Gary to them – oops, I mean, offering to let him watch them with me. It’s not like he can voice any complaints. And if he pounds on the bed, I can just put that down to involuntary muscle spasms. (Sorry, a little black humor.)
All for now.
posted by Peg Daniels at 5:41 PM
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