April 30, 2006 (9:00am)
Today’s stream:
I forgot to mention in the previous post: It also helps me cope with this to write about it, which is probably obvious!
Note to his family: I again conveyed to Gary that from the beginning you have been chomping at the bit to come see him. He still would rather you wait until he can talk to you, but he definitely feels your love and concern, have no doubt. (This was written before I talked to you, Donne.)
The rest of yesterday was pretty quiet. Gary was on the trache collar at the 5:30 visit and wanted to concentrate on his breathing, so I just read more Dylan to him. Near the end of the visit a sharp pain went through my left knee and my leg nearly collapsed under me – uh-oh, haven’t had that happen before. Glad I’m seeing the massage therapist today (Sunday) at noon. Also had a couple spells of light-headedness Saturday, also not something I usually experience, so will have to keep a watch on that.
Gary did “2 and 6" on the trache collar, meaning 2 hours on the trache collar alternated with 6 on the ventilator. I noticed he kept watching the clock during that early evening visit; since he’d told me they were supposed to put him back on the ventilator at 6pm I thought that might mean he was feeling the effect of all that breathing on his own, but he told me he felt pretty good during it. He has discovered the sessions go easier if he tries to nap for a while before they start. I was told that on Sunday they may bump him up to “4 and 4.” He looked a little dubious when I relayed that to him. I forgot to ask him if he was dubious because he didn’t think he was ready for that or because he didn’t believe the words of the medical personnel.
I felt a wave of depression when I went back to my hotel room Saturday night; haven’t had that happen before over this, but I know it’s a reasonable reaction. There was nothing in particular that caused it, just wondering what we were going to face when we got back home and in the future. I am looking forward to being back in my own bed and getting a decent night’s sleep and petting my kitties and getting back to my story-writing, but I know that’s still some time off.
At the Sunday morning 10:30 visit I asked Gary how he was doing – a former student of his, Alex Shibakov, and his wife Lauren were going to be visiting today so I wanted to make sure Gary was up for it. He said he was fine, just a little tired. I asked him if he’d slept okay during the night, and he said “no.” They had the trache collar on him at midnight for two hours, and he says he can’t really rest during that because it is harder to breathe with it on as opposed to being on the ventilator. Plus they turn him every two hours. To top it off they take an x-ray EVERY night at 3 am. I did not know that. I just don’t get the scheduling of such a procedure. The doc told Gary he was going to prescribe a drug so he can sleep better at night, and I’m thinking, “forget the damn drug, quit bugging him at 3am for an x-ray.”
At that visit Gary and I chatted a bit, listened to the book-on-tape for a while, and then it was time for me to go. What happened next, I debated not divulging, but since there are witnesses, I feel I must ’fess up. I went back to my hotel room, ate a little something, and then at 11:40, in preparation to leave for my massage at noon, reached into my purse for my car keys. No keys. Panic. After dumping everything out of my purse and searching to no avail, I had the horrible thought that I must have left them in the car ignition after returning from Wal-Mart. Two days ago. I left a garbled message on the massage therapist’s answering machine and then chugged my way to the parking garage, hoping no one had stolen the car. Fortunately it was still there, as were my keys, taunting me from the ignition. So near, and yet so far. I went into the sky deck area (which connects the parking garage area to the hospital and is where you pay your ticket at a machine) and talked to a woman manning a desk there. She gave me the number for “Pop-a-lock,” and I called them, unfortunately forgetting that we have AAA, and I could have had this service done for free. Pop-a-lock said they’d be there in forty minutes. I figured they were in the same time dimension as construction workers, so would be there in a couple of hours. Goodbye massage. I decided to chance that my car would be safe without me for another two minutes and started back to my hotel room to get a book to read while I was waiting at the car. While in transit, the massage therapist returned my call (I have now joined the 21st Century and own a cell phone as of last week). She attempted to calm me down, giving me the old New Age spiel of how nothing ever happens without a reason, etc., etc., words that I’d like to believe, but don’t always manage to. She thought we could still work in a massage, though I was dubious. She told me she had a nice warm table ready, soothing music going, and would give me a good massage. Sounded lovely. I ended the conversation feeling better, though I forgot to tell her I would probably be allergic to the scented candles :-)
So I guarded the car for about an hour when who should pull to a stop in front of me but Alex and Lauren, no doubt wondering what I was doing standing in the parking garage reading a book. They took a spot near me, and we talked a short time. Lauren said she could get my keys for me by breaking my window with a rock, but I declined her kind offer. I had Alex stand guard while I went inside to get the phone number of Pop-a-lock again and see what they were up to. The guy claimed to be a short distance away (13th and 3rd) and asked me how to get where I was, on 18th and 4th. I told them I didn’t know my way around Birmingham very well, but it seemed to me that if he went five blocks up to 18th and one block over to 4th, he would be here. :-) That conversation really inspired my confidence in his abilities. He took an inordinately long time to travel those few blocks, but he did get here. He popped the lock, and I rescued my keys and paid the $35 (I tried to get a discount because he was wearing an Auburn cap, but that didn’t work). Ah, well. It could have been worse. I could have locked the keys in the car and obliviously walked away with the motor still running, only to realize this when I returned to the car. I’ve done that as well. Dolores, even though I’m not quite old enough, can I pass this off as a “senior moment” too?
By this time it was too late for the massage, though the therapist told me to call after the 2:30 visit to see if something could still be arranged, depending on how things worked out with the other appointment she had scheduled for the afternoon. The Shibakovs and I moved to the hotel lobby and visited a bit before going over to the hospital. When Alex walked in for the visit, the first thing Gary tapped out was, “Can I get you a beer?” There was small talk for a short time – Alex offering Gary insights as to how he could get legally high by manipulating the push button on his painkiller dispenser – and then Gary turned to math. I was glad I figured out “Lindelöf” after the first four letters, cuz I don’t know how Gary would have communicated the umlaut ;-)
The time flew by quickly, and Alex and Lauren left with promises of coming back with coffee and chocolate for Gary when he was able to have it (great, with all that caffeine he’ll be buzzing around the room), and organic zuchinni for me.
I tried to call the massage therapist again, but there was no answer, so that was a bust for today. Oh, well. I’ve got the chiropractor tomorrow, and then my sister the massage therapist for Tues thru Fri.
At the 5:30 visitation, Gary was fast asleep, so I didn’t bother him. Unfortunately that meant the Currys didn’t get to say hello to him. They brought over their CD player and lots of classical music, so that will be great, especially because of all the TVs on the ward, Gary’s is the one that has broken, as of today. Maintenance didn’t see this as the emergency it is, so it will not be fixed until at least tomorrow. We are contemplating buying a DVD player if the TV isn’t fixed by tomorrow morning’s first visit; he needs a little something of that nature to occupy his time when he is not up to more active stuff like Sudoku and Calvin and Hobbes and Newsweek.
Well, it is getting late, so I will post this now. Wouldn’t want you to get worried like the last time you were when I failed in my duty to give you your daily update. :-)
Oh. Jamie wishes to correct my statement that the writing critique group could ever have been described as desperate for members. She says they only let the truly brilliant people in. Who am I to argue? :-)
Today’s stream:
I forgot to mention in the previous post: It also helps me cope with this to write about it, which is probably obvious!
Note to his family: I again conveyed to Gary that from the beginning you have been chomping at the bit to come see him. He still would rather you wait until he can talk to you, but he definitely feels your love and concern, have no doubt. (This was written before I talked to you, Donne.)
The rest of yesterday was pretty quiet. Gary was on the trache collar at the 5:30 visit and wanted to concentrate on his breathing, so I just read more Dylan to him. Near the end of the visit a sharp pain went through my left knee and my leg nearly collapsed under me – uh-oh, haven’t had that happen before. Glad I’m seeing the massage therapist today (Sunday) at noon. Also had a couple spells of light-headedness Saturday, also not something I usually experience, so will have to keep a watch on that.
Gary did “2 and 6" on the trache collar, meaning 2 hours on the trache collar alternated with 6 on the ventilator. I noticed he kept watching the clock during that early evening visit; since he’d told me they were supposed to put him back on the ventilator at 6pm I thought that might mean he was feeling the effect of all that breathing on his own, but he told me he felt pretty good during it. He has discovered the sessions go easier if he tries to nap for a while before they start. I was told that on Sunday they may bump him up to “4 and 4.” He looked a little dubious when I relayed that to him. I forgot to ask him if he was dubious because he didn’t think he was ready for that or because he didn’t believe the words of the medical personnel.
I felt a wave of depression when I went back to my hotel room Saturday night; haven’t had that happen before over this, but I know it’s a reasonable reaction. There was nothing in particular that caused it, just wondering what we were going to face when we got back home and in the future. I am looking forward to being back in my own bed and getting a decent night’s sleep and petting my kitties and getting back to my story-writing, but I know that’s still some time off.
At the Sunday morning 10:30 visit I asked Gary how he was doing – a former student of his, Alex Shibakov, and his wife Lauren were going to be visiting today so I wanted to make sure Gary was up for it. He said he was fine, just a little tired. I asked him if he’d slept okay during the night, and he said “no.” They had the trache collar on him at midnight for two hours, and he says he can’t really rest during that because it is harder to breathe with it on as opposed to being on the ventilator. Plus they turn him every two hours. To top it off they take an x-ray EVERY night at 3 am. I did not know that. I just don’t get the scheduling of such a procedure. The doc told Gary he was going to prescribe a drug so he can sleep better at night, and I’m thinking, “forget the damn drug, quit bugging him at 3am for an x-ray.”
At that visit Gary and I chatted a bit, listened to the book-on-tape for a while, and then it was time for me to go. What happened next, I debated not divulging, but since there are witnesses, I feel I must ’fess up. I went back to my hotel room, ate a little something, and then at 11:40, in preparation to leave for my massage at noon, reached into my purse for my car keys. No keys. Panic. After dumping everything out of my purse and searching to no avail, I had the horrible thought that I must have left them in the car ignition after returning from Wal-Mart. Two days ago. I left a garbled message on the massage therapist’s answering machine and then chugged my way to the parking garage, hoping no one had stolen the car. Fortunately it was still there, as were my keys, taunting me from the ignition. So near, and yet so far. I went into the sky deck area (which connects the parking garage area to the hospital and is where you pay your ticket at a machine) and talked to a woman manning a desk there. She gave me the number for “Pop-a-lock,” and I called them, unfortunately forgetting that we have AAA, and I could have had this service done for free. Pop-a-lock said they’d be there in forty minutes. I figured they were in the same time dimension as construction workers, so would be there in a couple of hours. Goodbye massage. I decided to chance that my car would be safe without me for another two minutes and started back to my hotel room to get a book to read while I was waiting at the car. While in transit, the massage therapist returned my call (I have now joined the 21st Century and own a cell phone as of last week). She attempted to calm me down, giving me the old New Age spiel of how nothing ever happens without a reason, etc., etc., words that I’d like to believe, but don’t always manage to. She thought we could still work in a massage, though I was dubious. She told me she had a nice warm table ready, soothing music going, and would give me a good massage. Sounded lovely. I ended the conversation feeling better, though I forgot to tell her I would probably be allergic to the scented candles :-)
So I guarded the car for about an hour when who should pull to a stop in front of me but Alex and Lauren, no doubt wondering what I was doing standing in the parking garage reading a book. They took a spot near me, and we talked a short time. Lauren said she could get my keys for me by breaking my window with a rock, but I declined her kind offer. I had Alex stand guard while I went inside to get the phone number of Pop-a-lock again and see what they were up to. The guy claimed to be a short distance away (13th and 3rd) and asked me how to get where I was, on 18th and 4th. I told them I didn’t know my way around Birmingham very well, but it seemed to me that if he went five blocks up to 18th and one block over to 4th, he would be here. :-) That conversation really inspired my confidence in his abilities. He took an inordinately long time to travel those few blocks, but he did get here. He popped the lock, and I rescued my keys and paid the $35 (I tried to get a discount because he was wearing an Auburn cap, but that didn’t work). Ah, well. It could have been worse. I could have locked the keys in the car and obliviously walked away with the motor still running, only to realize this when I returned to the car. I’ve done that as well. Dolores, even though I’m not quite old enough, can I pass this off as a “senior moment” too?
By this time it was too late for the massage, though the therapist told me to call after the 2:30 visit to see if something could still be arranged, depending on how things worked out with the other appointment she had scheduled for the afternoon. The Shibakovs and I moved to the hotel lobby and visited a bit before going over to the hospital. When Alex walked in for the visit, the first thing Gary tapped out was, “Can I get you a beer?” There was small talk for a short time – Alex offering Gary insights as to how he could get legally high by manipulating the push button on his painkiller dispenser – and then Gary turned to math. I was glad I figured out “Lindelöf” after the first four letters, cuz I don’t know how Gary would have communicated the umlaut ;-)
The time flew by quickly, and Alex and Lauren left with promises of coming back with coffee and chocolate for Gary when he was able to have it (great, with all that caffeine he’ll be buzzing around the room), and organic zuchinni for me.
I tried to call the massage therapist again, but there was no answer, so that was a bust for today. Oh, well. I’ve got the chiropractor tomorrow, and then my sister the massage therapist for Tues thru Fri.
At the 5:30 visitation, Gary was fast asleep, so I didn’t bother him. Unfortunately that meant the Currys didn’t get to say hello to him. They brought over their CD player and lots of classical music, so that will be great, especially because of all the TVs on the ward, Gary’s is the one that has broken, as of today. Maintenance didn’t see this as the emergency it is, so it will not be fixed until at least tomorrow. We are contemplating buying a DVD player if the TV isn’t fixed by tomorrow morning’s first visit; he needs a little something of that nature to occupy his time when he is not up to more active stuff like Sudoku and Calvin and Hobbes and Newsweek.
Well, it is getting late, so I will post this now. Wouldn’t want you to get worried like the last time you were when I failed in my duty to give you your daily update. :-)
Oh. Jamie wishes to correct my statement that the writing critique group could ever have been described as desperate for members. She says they only let the truly brilliant people in. Who am I to argue? :-)
posted by Peg Daniels at 8:37 PM
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