How loud can Loud Be?

Recovery is a lot of hurry up and wait. Kevin feels pretty good but his body isn't 'waking up' and getting back to business like it's required to before he can have some food and be sprung from this joint. It's a viscious circle to me because I don't know what the heck his body is supposed to get back to business with if they don't put a little food in there. Seems like a straightforward in/out process to me. Nothing in obviously equals nothing out.

It's good that Kevin is the patient. Because he is that--patient. I'm not. Everyone knows it.

I've resorted to quiet acts of rebellion (call it 'revenge' if you want but I think that's a bit harsh) to release a little of my pent up frustration.

I've been sliding out of here in the late hours of the night to get a quick shower at home. Takes about an hour to go across down, get wet and get back up here. They aren't likely to try something new on Kev that late so I feel safe going then.

And I bring pizza or Subway or whatever I can find open back for the nursing staff on shift. Good care isn't something you can put a price on but you can certainly influence it with food.

I've noticed an orange pylon in the parking garage in a front row parking space. Interesting; there didn't seem to be anything visually wrong with the spot. Tonight as I slipped into the garage, I saw a car backing from the front row space. Then a passenger hopped out, reached in the back seat and pulled out THE ORANGE PYLON and set in place in the now empty parking spot. As I walked past the car I recognized the driver as ONE OF THE LOUDS!

And not even old Louds. These Louds are about the same age as my children.

The Louds are reserving a front row parking spot for themselves. There are forty billion of them up on the floor, picnicing and generally having a family reunion throughout the day. I trip over their kids and their balls, I watch other visitors move their trash in order to sit in a chair and I listen to them sleep every night. Yesterday one of the Louds snagged a chair from Kev's room while we were out walking the floor. That chair was half of my contrived bed!

And now I find out that I am hoofing it to a distant spot while they've been reserving one front row.

Part of me is appalled. Part of me admires their chutzpah.

My quick shower at home was unsatisfying. I want to sleep in my bed. (I want to sleep in my now gone waterbed but that's another thing entirely.) And I want to soak in my giant tub not get briefly wet, partially dry, throw on clean clothes and return to the hospital where I'm going to see a pile of assorted Louds snoring on chairs across from Kevin's door. MY chair.

The orange pylon mocked me when I pulled into the garage and realized all the close spots were full. I swear it morphed into an evil leer like a distorted orange smiley face as I drove past.

I don't know how it happened. Really I don't. But somehow the leering orange pylon ended up taking a ride in my truck...up, up, up the parking garage ramps. Right to the tip top spot.

I placate my guilt with the knowledge that it's next to the elevator access.

The parking spot was still empty when I returned from the nether regions of the garage. The empty spot beckoned to me and I heeded its call.

I'm sure it was all part of "God's Plan." Convicted in my belief.

I wonder how loud the Louds will be when they discover the pylon has gone missing.

I think I'll sleep well tonight. Even with half a bed.