Lighter notes

Still recapping events from the first part of step-down, from Friday 1/8.  

If I didn't have a watch with the date and a nifty computer and my crackberry I would never bloody know what day it is. Of course I'm still not sure whether that matters at the moment. I know for sure that Michael doesn't really know what day it is nor that it matters a whit for him.

As noted before, there was more movement and going from place to place, uping & downing, etc as M made the move to a chair in ICU, then wheelchair to step-down and getting settled, and going back-n-forth (me, not him) to get things from the hotel.  Like his telling me on the way from ICU to step-down that now that he was getting private digs he wanted his music. Right then, right now.  Quick doctor, get that patient on 50 ml of iPod STAT!!   So off to the hotel my Dad and I tramped. Ride on the bus TO the hotel = quick. Ride back = the local from Hartford and making all stops. This is funny because you can practically see the main entrance from our hotel, it's about 2 blocks away.  So why the hell was I riding the bus? Other than having bags of crap, it was cold and snowy and I didn't want to schlep my parka around the hospital so I wasn't wearing it. Hence, no walking the 2 blocks and the bus ride covering 12 blocks of the same real-life 2 blocks.  My poor father may still be complaining about the 35+ minutes of life he will never get back.

The single greatest moment of hijinks and hilarity of the trip occurred in early afternoon after M was in his new spiffy room.  Everywhere in the hospital and especially at entrance to patient rooms there are bottles of antibacterial foam mounted to sterilize or clean hands. My mom came in to see M briefly for first time, rub his arm. He asked if she used the foam. Oops. So she went over to it and based on knowledge of other similar ones at different hospitals she went at it, wiggling it different directions. I went over to help and at same time I tried to direct her to pull nozzle toward her, she whacked it upwards and alcohol based anti-bac foam went spraying everywhere all over my Mom. Unfortunately a good bit of it went in her eyes, she snapped 'em shut but started semi-yelling, "it burns it burns!!!" and waving her arms. The foam also wound up all in her hair, down her sweater, over her face, in the ears. I went to help her, grabbed towels to wipe off, then decided we better get to sink and wet towels and wash off. She still had eyes shut so couldn't see the bathroom, so waved for me to guide her there. I grabbed her hand and then proceeded to accidentally pull her directly into the door frame -- whack. Then finally into the bathroom and cleaned up. Then she could open up and look at me and point out all the places that I had foam too.  Meanwhile the poor heart patient was over in his bed laughing his butt off and trying very hard not to, sort of giggling and coughing. But at least he was smiling.


Care-taking Lesson of the Day:  Don't lean on the side rails of the electronic, auto-controlled, lifter-upper-downer bed for the patient

Because it can't be too good for your poor heart patient  husband (who is functionally blind with his glasses off and a fabric nightshade on over his head, and in the dark) when the bed crashes from its slightly elevated and slightly tilted position to dead-ass flat in mere seconds because his stupid-ass wife was leaning on the rails to talk and whisper loving words and news to him in the dark while wishing him goodnight.