Waiting

Still waiting.

Surgery still hangs as a possibility.

Through much of last night it was an hour by hour thing of weighing "is he well enough for surgery, is he getting better and maybe won't need surgery."

He is definitely resting better than he has the entire week.

A social worker came in and got on my bad side by wanting to wake Kevin and ask for a copy of his end of life directives. 'You want to wake him up to ask what he wants to do about dying? I don't think so....Listen to me, I am tired and I am too grouchy to deal with either you or The Grim Reaper. You can both wait. You may come back when the nurse wakes him anyway for vitals.'

I'm fairly certain there's now a notation in Kevin's chart--"Bitchovawife"--and we won't see the social worker again. She probably figures life with me is reason enough for the man to embrace death.

A new hospitalist is on shift. I definitely do not like that program. I like the individual doctors. They all seem skillful and personable. But they are very pulled in different directions throughout the entire hospital. You wait a lot. And you start over every 12 hours with a new one.

A CT scan has been ordered and we'll see where it goes from there.

I've been on the phone with our girls and left email messages for friends.