The really bright side

Apparently patient beds are impossible to come by, but as it turns out that is not such a bad thing. After laying in the recovery unit for nine hours David finally got a room. His own room. In our house (where we do get the YES network)! While his nurse was attentive, it was impossible for David to sleep or relax in the brightly lit, noisy, and chaotic environment of the recovery unit. After an examination (by the doctor), practice coughs (by the patient), and some additional pain monitoring, David's surgeon agreed to send him home tonight and kindly armed me with a pain medicine prescription and her cell phone number.

David will sleep at home tonight with a single black stitch tied in a bow on the side of his chest. Like a string that Ernie would tie around his finger, the bow is a reminder that he is finally cured.

Third time's a charm

David has become an expert surgical patient, and I his faithful assistant. Upon check-in at the hospital this morning at 5:30am, David automatically recited his date of birth and I stated my name, relationship (to David), and cell phone number without being prompted. This was not our first rodeo, but thankfully it is David's last.

The surgery is complete and was successful. David is in the recovery area now and I should be able to see him in about an hour when he is transferred to a room. Apparently there is a shortage of patient beds so he might stay in recovery longer until something opens up. Perhaps the hospital rooms are rent controlled, but on the bright side he gets more individual attention from nurses in the recovery unit. Unfortunately they probably cannot help with his last request to me as he was rolled away this morning: to watch the Yankee game tonight. I doubt they get the YES network.

(8.6.12)

(8.6.12)

(8.7.12)

(8.7.12)

Accidentally got woken up to say goodbye to daddy before surgery (8.8.12)