Nuthin New, All is Well

Either I'm really tired, or Bill's and my brains are running on low batteries, but we can't think of anything to say today.

"Bill, tell me something to say."

"Tell them the Die, Die story. Or that thing the nurse said yesterday, although it probably wouldn't be funny in a blog."

Okay. So there's a nurse here named Diana, nicknamed, Di. See where this is going? When Bill was at his sickest, the intercom came on his room. The operator was looking for Di. So she says, "Di, Di, Di. Looking for you. Di." This is probably not something one says over a hospital intercom, where people are already a little concerned about the Grim Reaper. Poor Bill.

The other anecdote he suggests is this: As mentioned before, he is covered in tubes and wires, and every time he gets up, it takes almost ten minutes to untangle them, unhang them, rehang them, etc. So at one point, Bill was standing up, trying to get one fluid bag unwrapped from the wires of another fluid bag, and I was leaning my head under his arm, trying to straighten out three IV cords, and the nurse was reaching behind him, trying to get his stomach tube out from around his waist. We were all stuck in this tube-intensive cluster, and suddenly, she says quietly, "Group hug."

I'm sure it couldn't possibly come across as funny in writing as it did at the time. But, when she said it, Bill and I nearly fell out. Actually, I think some serosanguinous fluid literally DID fall out. Of Bill's stitches. From laughing so hard.

Yeah, that anecdote I should probably delete, but I'm too tired.

He gets some more xrays today, then they let him try soft food. I'm sure he will be fine. He isn't throwing up at all any more.

The only thing I remain concerned about is his moderate (two-inches long, so far) wound dehiscence, but according to the megavolume of articles I've read (including, yes, some appellate findings from dehiscence lawsuits--oops--the medical gang here doesn't know I'm a lawyer)--they are doing okay with their treatment of it. But they were too slow starting, and something really bad could have happened, but it didn't, and I feel pretty secure that it won't, as the situation seems to be resolving, although he has to get re-stitched, and help me Jesus if they send him home with just me to figure out what to do if his incision blows apart any more than it already has.

To give you a sense of what I'm talking about, and what "wound dehiscence" is, here is line from the appellate judgment I read this morning: "It happened suddenly, after a cough, and plaintiff was able to catch her intestines before they landed on the floor."

Wow.

I never want another link sausage as long as I live.

In other news, we have no pathology report yet. Could be any time. I will post that instantly.

God is Light.