Only One

It's late on Saturday night. No, it's early on Sunday morning. Oh, who knows whatthehell day it is. I slip out in the dark wee hours of the morning to dash home and shower and the daylight hours all look alike through the few windows.

Kevin is sleeping. Since I am in here with him and he's done so well, the nurses limit their visits to the required times for vital signs so he is able to sleep longer at a time. Every hour or so the shift nurse waves to me from the door to signal that we both know he's doing well. It works for all of us--the nurses can give more attention to the patients who need it and Kevin can get more uninterrupted sleep.

He had a good day. We walked several times--he hates doing it but he knows it's an important part of getting out of here. No food or drink until his bowels "wake up" which may be a couple more days. Activity should help things return to normal so he's willing to do what he dislikes. It's a real circus get things arranged for any movement beyond the bed. And it has to be incredibly hard on Kevin to move through the surgery pain, let alone with all the accompanying hardware. Then there are the times I get him moving away from the bed faster than I remember to grab the catheter bag; I'm happy to report that his panic reflexes are alive and well.

The nurses hauled in a recliner so I could sleep next to his bed, but I've found an arrangement of a couple of chairs in the corner at the foot of Kevin's bed works better for me. I'm out of the nursing staff's way, I can see him easier from there and get up sooner to help him as needed. He still needs help to change position in bed or reach anything. I can kick my feet up on the second chair and type here on my computer or tilt my head back and rest a little myself.

My notion that he'll be fine as long as I can stay awake and watch over things continues. It's worked so far.

It surprised me that he came to his room from surgery with no monitors which report back to the nurses station. This is a good thing though--means he's doing well.

His IV beeps when it needs attention and it's either something I can do on my own or I walk down to the nurse's station to get someone. I wonder how long things go when there is no one with a patient. I'm glad we don't have to find out. I suspect the nurses quickly realize if a patient has someone competent to help or not and plan accordingly.

I'm very thankful I am able to stay here with him. The nurses and aides are very good but he's one of many on a busy floor for them. For me he's the only one.