Moving on down the road

The Doctor came in early took one look at Clem and asked if he was ready to go home. We had been discussing whether we thought it was smart to attempt to go home tomorrow so we suddenly found ourselves dropping back to punt. Looking around the cramped room and with the memories of lasts night constantly interrupted sleep fresh on our brains it only took seconds for Clem to say yes. So with a few written prescriptions and a list of brief instructions on what to have concerns about we decided to casually pack and move on down the road at a slow and lazy pace.

Somehow that plan never seemed to develop. I put Clem to bed and slowly started packing up. That was my first mistake. It was frustrating for him to watch me pack so inefficiently that he finally got out of bed and starting fussing over things himself. Next thing I know he's in the bathroom having a little session with the porcelain God and his pain level kicked up a few notches. This started a trend. Pain, nausea, stomach ache, bathroom, pain pills, nausea meds, and of course every time he nodded off for a little rest someone else came in to measure his urine output or mop his room with cherry flavored disinfectant.

We finally made a plan for me to slowly load our things into the truck, take a long rest, eat lunch, and then head home. Of course that did not happen because the battery was dead in our truck. I discovered this the night before but choose to deal with it later. So my parents came and we fought the little old ladies in the parking lot for a space beside the truck to jump it off. Did I mention that our water heater busted at the house this week too? Anyway, with that behind us I drove the truck home, unloaded our things, put dinner in the crock pot, and made my way back to the hospital to pick up Clem from his rest.

Lunch came and so did more nausea and more trips to the bathroom and a final attempt at a nap. Finally we had so many people come in we just said screw it let's bust out of this joint and we made a mad dash for the door. We were exhausted by the time we made it here but so excited at the possibility of uninterrupted rest that we immediately started preparing our little recovery nest.

Clem still cannot lie flat so I had to somehow incline the head of our bed. Clem needed a bath and wanted to wear clothes that covered his butt and gave a little more security to his "man parts" and I had an overwhelming urge to wash all the clothes, pillows, and blankets that had accumulated nasty illness germs in the hospital. After two hours we both found ourselves grumpy and exhausted. Fortunately Jessica made us a lovely dinner and Clem ate heartily and headed for the bed. He has been asleep now for two hours. I don't expect him to be back up unless he has some pain and I am hoping that the morning with find him refreshed and relaxed.

I too am excited for a good nights sleep and can't wait to crawl into the bed next to him. My dreams have been vivid and unsettling probably because of the lack of deep sleep and the disturbing noise going on all through the night. Clem has jokingly referred to my attitude as being "flinty" lately but I know that hard times are ahead and there can be little room for weepy girl emotions if I am going to help him through this. I think my dreams are also reflecting all the hysteria that I am keeping below the surface right now. Making him blow the tube, making him get in bed, making him get out of bed, and making him eat are all distasteful things to have to do to someone who you love so much and is in so much pain. Fortunately I have had this role three other times so I know that this is the right thing to do for him.

So many times I have wished that I was the one who was sick. I don't think this is so uncommon. It seems that it would be easier being the sick one but after watching Clem this week I am not so sure any more. He is walking a very tough road. I have always known that Clem was made of tough stuff but after this week I can honestly say that my husband is truly a mountain of a man.