neurotwitch

day nine

There are two plumbers in Stanley’s room right now, snaking the sink drain. I told Stanley that’s the same thing they’re going to do with his calf artery. The noise ... well, it’s better than the old woman screaming down the hall.

Stanley said yesterday that his idea of hell is waiting down in radiology amidst all the geriatric patients who were all alone, demented in many cases, and screaming in pain while at the same time he’s desperately trying to get someone’s attention so he could take an urgent—due to Senekot—dump before he had a horrible accident. A kind transport orderly rescued him. I told Stanley: “If I lose my mind, just let me go.”

We’re waiting for Dr. Manoni to stop by for a consultation on the clot blocking the artery in Stanley’s left calf. He’s supposed to give a definitive answer on whether he’s going to operate on it to remove the clot while Stanley is here, or if it’s not necessary now and Stanley can go home and maybe come back later, or maybe we can get it done someplace else. At any rate, his docs stopped the coumadin in case Manoni wants to do the surgery tomorrow or Friday. Other than waiting for that answer, Stanley could be home recuperating (or recoverating, as I said today—spoke too fast but it made Stanley laugh. Of course he caught it) instead of wasting a hospital bed. I think he’ll heal much faster if he’s home. Damn I wish that doctor would get here and let us know what’s going on—I’m so frustrated.

Took Slink in for his Bartonella test this morning, and will take Twitch in tomorrow morning (unless something happens). It takes three to five business days to get the answer. Today’s infectious disease doc, whom I just missed, said it definitely NOT the cats and more likely something left over from the first operation. They still don’t have a definitive answer, and it won’t grow.

Stanley had physical therapy twice today and is dozing at the moment. Yesterday really wiped him out, but in a good way (lots of exercise and hub-bub). They infused his antibiotics and whatever through his PICC line, so that’s working okay. He’s looking better and better every day.

When I go to sleep, I set the alarm clock so I can call Stanley shortly after the switchboard opens in the morning. I wake up about 20 times during the night to check the clocks to make sure I don’t oversleep, which means I’m not getting enough sleep. But last night it paid off—the power had gone off so I had to reset the clock and alarms. Tonight I’ll set my wind-up as well as my radio alarm—maybe that will be enough to let me sleep a solid night’s sleep. I woke up once last night with Ginger stretched out next to me—it felt good to cuddle with her even though she’s very doggy smelling (she needed a bath about two weeks ago!)

I brought some irises and peonies and some roses in for Stanley’s room. The peonies, which Stanley planted a few years ago, are gorgeous and smell wonderful—definitely superseding the usual hospital smells.

I will have to remember to get photos of Stanley’s zipper—it’s pretty dramatic—and as he’s pointed out, crooked. I think the crooked annoys him more than the staples. I’ll count them when we get home.

I just told Stanley that Monday, when I got home, the cats were agitated and the dog was as far from the television as she could possibly get and still be downstairs. Turns out Ben left the tv set on MTV2 and there was headbangers’ music blaring at them—usually I leave it on Animal Planet when we’re going to be gone more than a couple of hours. It was pretty funny to see the creatures’ reaction to that genre. Fortunately, no earbleeds. Speaking of music ... Mike, Ben’s grandpop, said Ben is a pretty good guitar player so I’m hoping he’ll play for us next time we’re in Boston.

Ok, to work ... I’m working on two store interfaces right now. Interesting, but now overdue.

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