A post, that is. I know that I owe you all an update, now that I’m home… how are things, how am I adjusting, what’s it all like, how are the kids, Willem, my mom, the house, the cat? I know.
And I’ll write it tomorrow. I promise. Because I have no appointments or shopping trips or other reason to leave the house; I will have a nurse here to mess with my VAC at noontime but I’ll have the morning here at a normally-medicated level and the afternoon at a higher, post-VAC-change-medicated level, and strict instructions from my physical therapist of two hours and from my mother to sit down and keep my feet up because they’re swelling again… so, I’ll write. Honest.
In the meantime, ponder this: do you suppose it would have harmed the various doctors, nurses and other staff at the last hospital to find a different way of saying, “So, let’s talk about your discharge,” the last day or two that I was there? Because, seriously, if I did have a discharge issue, I’d really rather keep it to myself, or perhaps share it with a single trusted nurse or doctor. …just one of those things you think about when you’ve been in the hospital for 36 days and know that you’ll probably lose your mind if you’re still there on Day 37.