Diaries I Read:
DAY 5
B got up at 5:00 and was asking for coffee. When the nurse asked if I�d like some too, I said, �No thank you; I�m hoping I�ll get to go back to sleep.� Fat chance. B never got back in the bed.
He wanted to call his parents at 6:00. I told him he had to wait. At least somebody should get some rest.
His parents came to the hospital. He was miserable. He wanted the IVs out of his arm. He wanted a shower. He didn�t want the crap liquid diet breakfast they served him. He wanted to shave. He wanted the compression stockings off his legs. He wanted the machines to stop beeping. He wanted the cervical collar off. He wanted to walk around. He wanted to go home.
Nothing we did could make anything better. I busied myself making phone calls. I tried to explain to B how furious I was that nobody had told me when he was out of surgery. I asked the nurses with whom I could voice a complaint. B snapped at me, telling me not to worry about making complaints.
We figured we were in for another day of waiting around for the doctor to show up and tell B when he could go home. I guessed that he�d stay another night in the hospital � it had only been a few hours since he got out of surgery.
When they showed up with another liquid meal for his lunch, I thought the Jell-O was going to really hit the fan. Luckily, the doctor showed up soon after. He looked at B and asked him how he was feeling. B said �fine.� He took the cervical collar off of him and asked if he wanted to go home. B said �yes.� He said OK, that he�d write him a prescription and write the orders for his release.
Despite this good news, B was still in a crappy mood, complaining about anything and everything. Finally, they came with the wheelchair to take him out of the hospital.
B�s parents took him home and I headed to the pharmacy, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and Baskin Robbins. We got home and ate. B went upstairs to bed.
I went to pick up the prescription, get a few things at the grocery store, get some movies from Blockbuster. I got home and couldn�t settle down. Despite my exhaustion, I just couldn�t sit still. I didn�t know what to do with myself.
Later that afternoon, I finally went up and slept for a couple of hours. B�s mom woke me up, telling me that B wanted me.
I heard him yelling my name from downstairs.
I jumped out of bed, put on a sweatshirt, wiped the sleep out of my eyes, and went down the stairs.
�What took you so long?� he demanded.
I just smiled and said, �I came as soon as I heard you.�
His dad had cooked some pork, his mom had prepared a salad. B told me to go make sure his mom had �done it right.� It looked good to me.
We sat down to eat. B wanted a different knife to cut his pork. I got up to find the knife. I rifled through the drawer, trying to find the knives he really likes. �Are you getting me a knife?� he asked, impatiently.
I grabbed a knife, not his favorite kind, and handed it to him. �Is this the best knife there was?!� he complained.
You get the picture.
On top of that, according to B, the pork was undercooked and the salad was wilted. There was just no pleasing him.
I have never seen him in such a foul mood before in my life. Of course, it�s understandable that he�d be a little grumpy after all that had happened, but this was ridiculous. I finally told him, �B, I love you to death, and I�ll do anything for you, but you have to stop acting like this. It�s not fair to anyone.�
And that ends the terrible saga of the trampoline. Sort of. It�s not over yet, but I pray that the worst of it is.
Working at home - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004
Toronto - Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2004
On the way to Toronto... - Tuesday, Nov. 09, 2004
A Good Day - Monday, Nov. 08, 2004
Another letter - Thursday, Nov. 04, 2004