Back On Track
March 20, 2010 by Daniel · Leave a Comment
During my first “poke and prod” back home, I scoured the menu. I had complained about the taste, but in truth, I was excited to be able to eat solid food again.
“Take it easy,” Randy implored. “Your body’s not used to real food, yet.”
I picked up the phone and ordered a standard breakfast – scrambled eggs, grits, toast, juice and coffee. I ended my conversation requesting some fresh fruit, something I’d never been a fan of, but suddenly had a taste for.
“Did they change my taste buds, too?” I asked, laughing. “I’ve never had a hankering for melon, but it sure sounded good.”
“I don’t think that happened,” Randy laughed. “But then, I’ve a feeling you’re about to see a lot of changes.” She paused to take the blood pressure cuff from around my arm. “Everything looks great,” she added, turning back to the cart. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours. Remember, eat slowly. You don’t want your first real meal in a week to make you sick.”
Leaving the room, she closed the door. “Ah,” I thought, “peace and quiet – finally.” I closed my eyes and let me mind drift. Though I wasn’t home yet, I certainly had a sense of peace. The worst was over – or so I thought.
There was a knock at the door, and the dietician entered with a covered tray. “Breakfast?” she asked.
“Bring it on,” I said, “and you better stay out of the way of the fork.” She chuckled as she brought the tray table to the bedside and set everything up.
“I’ll be back in a bit to pick it up,” she said, again closing the door on her way out. I lifted the cover on the food tray to see exactly what I’d ordered. Scrambled eggs had never looked so tasty.
I was ravenous! As I took the first delicious bite, I thanked God for the nutritious, real food and that I’d made it back this far. I scarfed down everything but the parsley on the plate, slowing only long enough to take sips of the weak, bland decaf coffee. ‘Didn’t matter, I would’ve eaten anything.
Just as I finished up, John and Belinda returned and settled in for a long day. “You guys don’t have to stay,” I said, “I don’t think they’ll be much going on today.”
“Oh, no,” John retorted. “I’m in for the long haul, remember?” We all chatted for a while, then Belinda rose to leave. “Now that I see you’re alive and kicking, I can go home for a little while,” she offered. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.” She gave John and hug, walked to my bedside and gave me a kiss, then left the room.
“Can I get you anything?” John asked.
I adjusted the sheets on the bed, noticing that the whole of my torso was covered with bandages. “When do you think these will come off?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I’m sure they’ll only keep them on there as long as absolutely necessary.” He stared out the window. “You o.k.?” I asked.
“Just really tired,” he said. “It’s been a long week, and I”m glad the worst of it’s over.” He paused. “We have to start walking you up and down the hall today,” he added.
“I’m not sure I can,” I answered. “I don’t have any strength at all.”
“And that’s exactly the point,” he said. “You won’t have any until you start getting back to normal activity.” He had been down this road with his mother many years before, and I was lucky to have such an expert taking care of me.
“Come on,” he said, standing. “Get out of bed and let’s take a walk.” He walked to the bedside and took my arm.
“Can’t I wait until my breakfast digests?” I asked.
“The sooner you start exercising, the sooner I can take you home. Now get up.”
I rose slowly and swung my legs off the side. The pain was great, to say the least. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go very far.”
“It all begins with one step,” he retorted. “So let’s start that step.”
The Welcoming Committee
March 9, 2010 by Daniel · Leave a Comment
The ride to my new home was unlike a roller coaster. Jerome must have had a lot of patients to move around; we were hitting 15 mph, I swear, up the hallways to the elevator bank.
“‘Sorry for the rush,” he finally eeked out. “I’ve got a lot of people to move out of this place today,” he continued.
“That’s cool,” I replied. “The sooner you get me upstairs, the sooner I may be get some real food.” I had long since lost my taste for chicken broth, gelatin and an occasional cracker or two. I was ready for the real stuff. My appetite coming back meant to me that things were returning to normal.
As we rounded the corner off the elevator on the Cardiac ward, we narrowly missed the nurse, Randy, who had been my favorite first time on the floor. She quickly dodged the gurney, then looked up. “Well, hi there!” she exclaimed. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever be back.”
“Oh yeah,” I answered, “just couldn’t get a reservation.”
“You’re back in the same room,” she explained, “I’ll be down there in a minute to get you settled.”
As we rolled down the hall, I recognized several faces I’d seen now almost a week before. Funny how I hadn’t even thought of any of them, but how important seeing their faces again had become.
We rolled into the room, and there sat Belinda! “What’re you doing here?” I asked. “How’d you know when I’d be back?”
She laughed. “I’ve been here over a week, I was about to give up on you,” she answered. “No seriously,” she continued, “John called me this morning and said they were letting you out of jail on a pass.
“You’re looking pretty good,” she continued. She waited until they had gotten me into bed and walked to the side. “You had me worried there for awhile,” she said as she kissed me on the forehead. “Gotta admit, it’s never boring knowing you.”
The orderly left with the gurney while at the same time John came into the room. “That didn’t take long,” he commented. “Kinda weird you’re in the same room you were in, don’t you think?”
“I’m just glad to see the outside, glancing at the window. The sun shone brightly through the trees at the front of the hospital – I was so grateful to be where I was. “So bring on the feed bag,” I said, laughing.
Belinda reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a menu. “Uh-oh,” she said, “still a diabetic diet.”
I cringed. Though this was going to be solid food, I was sick of the flavorless, non-appetizing selections they were giving me. “Wonder if I could get someone to bring me a big bowl of ice cream?” I asked, winking.
“That’s not going to happen,” I heard, as Randy entered the room. “I see some things didn’t change while you were downstairs,” she smiled. “Still not happy with the food service?”
“I just want something that TASTES good!” I said.
“Don’t want to mess up the apple cart now,” she replied. She walked to the foot of the bed, took a foot and held it. “Wow, there’s a pulse in here now,” she said. “‘Looks like they knew what they were doing down there.”
John strolled to the bedside, straightened my pillows, and sat on the side of the bed. “Well, at last now I can keep an eye on you,” he added. That ‘10 minutes ever hour’ visitation was about to drive me crazy!”
He turned to Belinda. “Ready for some breakfast?” he asked. “I’m sure they’ll keep him out of trouble while we’re gone.”
“Sure,” she said. “Let’s go.” They stood and started for the door. “See you in a bit,” John said.
Randy pulled the stats cart to the bedside. “Now let’s see what we’ve got going on here.” She checked my pulse, temperature, oxygen level. “Everything’s looking good,” she said.
“It ought to,” I added. “I got all new parts.” I reached for the phone and dialed the in-house food ordering service. As I chose anything and everything I knew I could have, I thanked God I had made it back this far. The hump had been a big one, but I was slowly moving forward.
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