Ok, this is the final date, the last time, the "fer sure, fer real" date: Thursday, January 22nd at 8am.
The doc called to say he would be out of town after January 30th. "Sounds good to me", says I, but Pam was having none of it. She called them right back and gave the poor assistant all but a "flying bitch slap" and insisted on an earlier date so the doc would be here and handy throughout my hospital stay. (She'll be there just like in the movies, saying "If he dies, you go next..." and menacing the hospital staff with a pistol.) Just kidding!
Anyway, next week is the big week for me.
Watch for news on Thursday,
Clem
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2 comments:
You are a lucky man that Pam's got your back. An alert family member can be the best connection between you and the hospital staff.
Just in our little unfolding drama over Ben's foot, I've found how important it is for me to be there, listening to the doctor's instructions. At one point, the nurses were all ready to release him, when I'd heard the doctor's orders to the contrary. There was some communication snafu between the ER and the floor that might not have gotten untangled if I hadn't been there questioning things over and over again.
I don't mean to insult any hospital staff, but as caring as they can be, that's their JOB and they go home at the end of their shift, regardless of how you're doing - the next shift comes on.
For a couple of years I had a fever of unidentified origin. I did not think I would survive it. As you can tell I did.
I also sat and held my grandmother’s hand on what we thought was her death bed three times. She lived each time.
I found it much harder to be the family member of a chronically ill person than I did to be ill myself.
That being said - go Pam go!
Myrna Attaway
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