September 13, 2007 - Home

This is going to be a quickie. I just wanted to let you know that we got home today around 7pm and Melisa is doing fantastic. Way better than I expected.

This morning we were kind of in limbo, hoping the doc would give the go-ahead for us to leave. Fortunately, as the agony of waiting was about to engulf and suffocate us, Dan and Arin stopped by! Thanks for taking the time from your crazy schedules and daily commitments to come see us, guys. It meant a lot and it's always nice to see a familiar face when you're in such a foreign environment. Plus the Peanut M&M's made me feel much better!

At around noon, Melisa noticed fluid dripping from her IV site. Not yummy. We called a nurse STAT (which she didn't appreciate, her name was Donna), and she promptly removed the IV from it's naughty location. We were in the "Going Home Today" mode, so rather than stick another IV in, we asked if Melisa could just start taking antibiotics orally. The doc gave two thumbs up on that proposal.

Freed from the chains of captivity, Melisa proceeded to run slow laps (very slow, more like slow walking) around the hallways. She was still in a lot of pain, but it was being better managed. The doc came by around a half past nap time. If' she'd come at four, she would have caught me with my mouth agape and drool slipping out the side. Anyway, she said Melisa was good to go and we proceeded to prepare for departure.

Mel currently has 6 tubes coming/going from her person. There is one tube going to each surgery site that delivers a constant measured dose of pain medication. There are also two tubes coming from each surgery site that deliver fluid to a pouch on either side of her. These little pouches need to be emptied of their fluid several times a day. That's my job. Those of you who know me, know that I've nearly fainted when giving blood. It's not the pain so much, or the blood. I think I just start thinking about the fact that there's a foreign object INSIDE ME sucking the juice out. Normally I am pretty squeamish around medical blood-and-guts type stuff anyway. But somehow my mind/body goes into survival mode and switches off the gag/barf/faint reflex when it needs to. Fortunately, that reflex is switched off and I was able to empty one of the pouches after minimal instruction. Yes. I can pour liquid into a cup. Save your applause.

After a few final instructions and a small tower of prescriptions, Melisa got dressed and we made our escape. When we got home, she rested on the couch and spent some time with her Mom, Charlie and the kids while I went to get the prescriptions filled. I got back and Mel was ready for bed, so we transferred her downstairs. She's moving around so well, needing only minimal assistance. As she was getting into bed, I asked if she was happy to be home. She gave a big, genuine smile, and said, "Yes." I'm glad they didn't send her home yesterday, but today she was ready. She's resting peacefully right now, and I'm content knowing the worst is over. Thank you for your prayers. They're obviously working!

This ended up not being a quickie. Sorry. The good news is you can stop reading whenever you want and it won't even offend me. Unless you tell me. Then I'll be ticked.

In hindsight, here's a small list of things not to do when caring for someone fresh out of surgery.

DON'T:

• Forget the Insurance Card
• Call "dibs" on the bed when the patient is in the bathroom
• Eat a Garlic and Onion Ham Sandwich in the patient's room
• Take a walk using the IV stand with rollers that don't rotate - it's a drag. Ha Ha. I crack me up.
• Faint
• Bug the hospital staff - they don't think you're funny.
• Bring the Camaro to ride home in

I'm sure there's more. That was just off the top of my head. See you tomorrow. Probably.