Jeremy & I switched out places last night. I drove down to DC and we had dinner with Edda (kind of). Maybe I should say we sat with Edda while we ate our pork Baja Burrito. She was having none of dinner. Then Jeremy headed home and I stayed the night. Edda slept well last night, and today she alternated between being strong (she walked all the way down the hall and back) and weak (she winced a few times transitioning between sitting, standing and laying down). She’s been in bed all afternoon and I know I should get her sitting up in a chair for dinner, but it hurts her and I don’t want to do it.
Being in the hospital is a little like being on a long flight. The same background noise of controlled air flow, the neutral tones of the room and the soft corners of the equipment. Various people in uniform come in and ask if you’d like anything to eat and the food is all bland in the same airline way. And there is a feeling of trapped-ness. There is nowhere to go and nothing really good to do. Just waiting and napping and reading mindless materials or watching movies that don’t hold my attention. I think Jeremy is better than I am at being productive in this kind of space. Edda’s wound drain is still in her back, we are waiting for that to come out. We are waiting for her appetite to come back so the feeding tube can come out. We got the first poop today via enema, we are hoping for regular poops. Those are our discharge goals. On the one hand, I’m happy we are here to have lots of help with moving and feeding and cleaning Edda, but on the other hand, I long to be back together in the house. <3