OOB (Out of bed) Middle of the night 1/23

I couldn't remember her name but I could never forget her hair. I had met her briefly when I visited the ICU earlier in the evening and she assured me that Clem was doing well even though he was sweating bullets and rambling on about swimming in a pool inside a volcano in the Phillipines once. She was shaking me repeatedly while I was passed out in fetal position in the green pleather recliner in the waiting room. Sleep had come on hard and fast even though the lights would not turn off and the television next door was playing the 24 hour "Sponge Bob Square Pants" channel and now my brain couldn't seem to rise to attention. At first I thought I was dreaming but her persistence in rousing me finally reached a synapses that was capable of sparking and I found myself weaving down the hall to the ICU in a dreamlike state.

Clem was getting out of the bed for the first time and he wanted me to come and sit with him. Having had major surgery myself I understood the significance of this first upright movement. Many people pass out or vomit during this time and of course I wouldn't want to miss that. He was already in the chair when I came in and he motioned for me to wiggle up onto the bed facing his chair. I thought you might get a kick out of seeing this he said just as if he were trying out a new type of rope technique that I might be interested in. Little boys never seem to get over having their mommies come and watch them do something amazing do they?

I think he may have been there 7 to 10 minutes when all his monitors and the color of his skin indicated that his body was about to panic. He and the nurse almost simultaneously decided that it was time for the monumental event to come to an end and he stood and tried to get back into the bed amongst the tangled tubing. For some reason when he lifted his right foot in order to drag a tube underneath his vomit reflex was triggered and he cringed and murmured "nausea".

The nurse darted out the door which seemed a bit unusual as Clem turned pale and started desperately to mentally keep any spasm from happened around his recently assaulted diaphragm. Fortunately his mental signals queled the painful event and he leaned back in a tangled heap closing his eyes and attempting to slow his breathing. Wow! I had never seen this man battle like this even on the toughest climb or the smallest hole in the ground. As the nurse ran back in the door with the supersized vomit basin Clem looked up at me with a look that acknowledged what we both already knew...he had made it past the first crux.