Mo picked me up around 8 last night for a hospital run to check on my mama, bless her heart. BG had been camped out in the ICU waiting room for two hours prior. About the time I got there, the OR crew let us in for a peek and she was totally zonked to the point where they had to keep waking her up to breathe! A bit later they wheeled her into the unit and we followed her in then promptly left. It was a long day on many levels, beginning with my own checkup and ending with her leg fixed and a dose of Daddy on the gator and financial maneuvering in between. Daddy had a ball talking to all the people on her Jitterbug that I had to dial for him. I could hear him in the next room as I puttered in the kitchen telling the "girls" all about it. BabySister called this morning for a follow up saying that she worried all night. Me too BS, me too. The Supermoon was shining again through the lace curtains of my bedroom spilling onto the quilt where my furbabies were laid ont next to their Momma as I turned in. I usually have one on each side and a couple on the end of the bed...it comes in real handy during the winter! Mo and BG and I sat in the tv-less waiting room passing time with casual conversation and cellphones. Another patient followed mom out of surgery and I gained a whole new appreciation for night shift watching all that. Her nurse called this morning and said she's doing well, waking in fits and starts and promptly nodding back off. This is the time to stay away and let her rest. The hard work that will be required in the coming days is something to save energy for. Her knee is normally about the size of a cantaloupe anyway so I'm sure it was a challenge up in there. My understanding is there's a rod and a screw so no more TSA x-rays for her.
As we sat there, my mind went back to another time when my grandmother was in that very same unit dying of sepsis. She had developed peritonitis following a bowel resection and I was her advocate. I won't tell that story again except for the part where I stood on the counter and did a war dance until somebody listened to this "almost a nurse." I spent that entire night camped out there with my mom, Aunt Granny and KY cuz. It's what families do, and I've seen several generations surround a hospital bed and sing somebody onto glory. Robin Williams is like a member of everyone's family and I've never seen an entertainer's death make such an impact as his. Sadly many of the comedic talents of our lives suffer with depression and mental illness. Even with all the trappings of a grand lifestyle, they feel empty inside. When I first met my fairy blogmother we were both pretty damn depressed and reading her words helped me to define what I was going through myself. In truth, that's the only way to help yourself in combination with the right meds, which can be tricky. My happy cocktail has stayed the same for years now and seems to work as long as life doesn't get TOO bad.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for the love and support ^j^