Oscar’s up and moving even if his GI system is not. Yesterday we got permission to do a few loops in the interior octagonal hallways linking the four wings on the 7^th floor. A nurse accompanied us for safety, and when that went well we were cleared to go to the 3^rd floor gardens by ourselves. With his (now too small) flannel shirt over his brace for a little extra warmth we toured the gardens and soaked up some sun, walking for about 40 minutes. Today we got in three walks in the morning, including many loops around the octagon, and then a longer walk in the gardens. He’s moving so fast now that he looks more like he’s pushing a shopping cart through the aisles of Target than a using walker. 

But yeah, we’re still here. We’re at that point in the surgical post-op that we always get to…begging to leave. Last time it was the leaky chest tube, this time we’re waiting for the GI system to fully wake up. Today’s abdominal x-ray looked worse, so I reviewed the diet protocol again with the hospitalist and it turns out that the soups and juices I’d brought from home were probably better than the options on the hospital menu that may have actually exacerbated things. It’s all so confusing and the MDs are worried, but as I assured them today, we’ve been through this before and it will get better. But I wonder — am I willing it so, or do I really know? In any case, the hospitalist and I reviewed the symptoms and the tools and agreed that we can probably still take him home tomorrow even if it isn’t all resolved. 

In fun news, D., the Program Manager at Oscar’s supported living home came to visit a few days ago, and also called some of the staff so Oscar could talk with them too. Oscar was only two days post-op and was still rather sluggish but he lit up when he saw D. and again when talking to K. and C. He misses them all and being able to stay connected while he’s recovering is so helpful. 

I asked Oscar this afternoon if he knows he’s a rockstar. We’d just gotten back from our tour of the gardens and, once log-rolled back into bed, he’d asked me to pull up his blankets so he could be cozy. “Yeah, I know,” he replied, “because I’m doing well with this challenge.” Anyone who knows him knows he does well with every challenge thrown his way — he never gets discouraged, he never complains, or wishes anything to be different. He just keeps plugging along toward whatever goal he’s aiming for, and right now that’s getting his GI system working and following all the protocols to heal safely. He told me too that he’s really happy — happy to be so tall, to have a straight back, to be cared for by great nurses and doctors, to have so many people who are thinking of him, and to be able to lie in bed comfortably and keep up on the election news. His attitude and gratitude make the hospital shift-swapping and relentless caregiving a heck of a lot easier.