My mother and I returned to visit my father in Intensive Care tonight, bracing ourselves for more of what we saw this afternoon. Instead, we found Dad with his bed raised up, watching Jim Lehrer and surrounded by one of today's surgeons and his entourage of residents. He greeted us, and was able to talk to us for about half an hour before fatigue set in again. True to her word, the nurse had helped bring his pain down to a "3" from an "8" and this had made a world of difference. He said that the biggest discomfort tonight is his dry mouth, which unfortunately will dog him for 5 more days. The nurse was letting him swab his mouth tonight, though; guess she's a softie since she told us earlier that he probably shouldn't have them. She jokingly referred to him as "King of the Swab". Dad really likes this nurse and we were so happy to learn that she was going to work overtime tonight and stay on until midnight.
My mother and I are feeling giddy with relief tonight. After the past 5 months and all the fears about today, it is such a good feeling that he's doing so well. For sure he's got a long way to go in his recovery, and the coming week will not be easy for him, but just the change in the past 4 hours has made us feel really positive about things.
2 comments:
hola: We wish the greatest positive increments of success during this time and the times to come. Surrounded by this Ct. family, Opps, I mean the light headed Californians, It can only mean, Success.
With very good feelings, we wish the best outcome is yet to come.
love Daniel
Hi Bob & Sharon & Jordan,
Alan and I could not be happier to hear how much better things are today. It's our sincerest wish that each day's posting will be better than the last!
Everything about this posting pleased us, but I especially enjoyed reading about your favorite nurse. (Oncology nurses are a class apart; the specialty must attract the softest of softies.)
Bob -- You are ALWAYS going to remember this woman. Even now, years after my own short stint in the Oncolgy ward, I can picture my nurse, Eileen -- a pretty, young strawberry blonde -- coming gently into my room late Saturday night. On seeing me still awake, she looked concerned and asked if I was alright (I was), and if I was having trouble sleeping. ("No. You've just got a night owl on your hands") She then pulled up a chair and began to talk quietly with me. She made a point of telling me how well I was doing, and shared a number of tips to speed my recovery once I got home. She asked about my family, and told me about hers -- a husband and five children, ages 9 to 2. The next day was Mother's Day, so I asked Eileen what she'd be doing. "It's going to be WONderful", she said. "My husband is taking the four oldest to the ballgame." "Won't you miss them?" I asked. "Are you kidding?" she laughed. "He's leaving me with the napper, so I'll practically be on vacation!" She stayed and talked a while longer, then squeezed my hand and said good-night. Eileen -- a part-time nurse -- wasn't on duty again the rest of my stay.
A few months later when I had returned to work at the library, a voice behind me said, "Hi Charlotte. Do you remember me?" I turned to see Eileen, and was overcome with -- I can only call it joy -- at this chance to see her again, and to thank her for her warmth and kindness that long Saturday night. Tears from me. Hugs from her.
Two days later, Eileen came in again, this time with all five of her beautiful children. Colleen, the oldest, handed me a bouquet of lilacs from their garden, and said, "We're glad you got well." From then on, Eileen and the children would stop at my desk to say hello and to chat whenever they were in the library. Even now we exchange notes from time to time. Though our contact was brief, it was deep and intense for me, and she is on that list of people who have touched my life.
Advice to Bob: Get your favorite nurse's address! Weeks from now, you'll be back in harness and life will be regular again. Then suddenly one day you'll think of her, and you'll want to tell her once more how much she meant to you in those hard, scary days.
With fondest thoughts of you all, and of Eileen!
Charlotte
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