Cowboy + Cowgirl = LOVE

Hooray!

I'm in Bill's room again, and he was very happy to see me, and I was even happier, because as soon as I left there, I missed him terribly. He never knew about my (ridiculously silly) feelings issue, and I'm glad he didn't. I'm ashamed of myself, sort of, but, oh well. Just a little brat attack. :)

Thank you for the terrific emails helping to explain how he was feeling and to remind me of how terribly difficult it is to be in his situation.

He did get some good sleep while I was gone, and when I came back, the timing was perfect, because a lot of activity began and has just now ended (5:30 pm) and our cowpoke has now squished his morphine button to help him drift into a nice, big nap-world, which is where he is right now, as I type beside him.

All of his issues seem to be resolved! His fever is gone. His oxygen is OK without the nose tube; his heartbeat is slowing toward the normal range; I've heard nothing scary about anything.

He even walked today! Granted, it took 15 minutes to get him upright, as he has, literally, seven bags attached to him, and it's amazing to watch two nurses try to keep all the tubes straight and untangled.

Then he had to use a special walker that looks like a preacher's podium on wheels. He leans on his elbows for support and shuffles his little cowboy feet down the hall. He did one whole loop of the hall and was quite proud of himself.

But then the Urologist representative came in and told him he should do it twice more today and should not be in the bed unless he is sleeping, but should be sitting upright in a chair, to prevent the pneumonia/blood clot thing.

The Urologist said (kiddingly), "You can do it! Why, there's a little old lady down the hall who is 95, and she's done 5 laps already today!"

Bill said, "If I see her, I'm gonna coldcock her."

He just DREADS the walking. As soon as he convinced the Urologist that he was going to comply with these demands, the Urologist left, and Bill got comfortable in his bed and fell asleep.

That's Bill's idea of compliance.

Well, I guess he's a naughty liddle cowpoke, and doesn't want to round up those dogies. Looks like Diamond Lil the cowgirl is gonna have to come up with some motivational ideas.

Well, he's snoring right now, and holding a pillow over his stomach. (His incision starts way above his navel, goes down, curves around the navel, and continues all the way down to.....Points South. The incision is seriously at least a whole foot long!)

Till later! And thanks for all the love...and loving advice!