Friday afternoon, January 23, 2009

Our big day to go home! 

After having a minor meltdown, Doug put me back together and we started gathering up our stuff to get discharged from the hospital.  I even had a chance to look out my window for the first time and see that I had had quite a lovely view! 

We had to be at my infectious disease doctor’s office by 4:00 to be trained in giving myself antibiotics every 8 hours through a PIC line (a tube that travels from my arm to my heart). Rather than having a home health-care nurse come to our house three times a day, I opted to take advantage of this cool technology that uses pressurized, water-balloon shaped balls that are filled with my antibiotic.  After injecting saline into the port of my PIC line, the antibiotic ball is attached.  When the ball is empty (after about 30 minutes), I make another saline injection, followed by an injection of heparine (a blood thinner designed to keep the line from becoming clogged). 

After creatively fitting me into back seat of Doug’s car (a lovely sight—me in my hospital gown, a walker, hair sticking up everywhere, and the lack of a pair of underwear that will fit over a microwave on my foot!), we raced off to the doctor—only to realize that there was no way that I would be able to waddle the 50 yards to the office door.  That’s just when another one of God’s blessings showed up . . . A lady from the office came out with a wheelchair, picked me up in the parking lot, and not only brought me in the office, but recognized that I was a bit pale and fed me a beautiful meal left over from their office luncheon.  So sweet. 

That is just the way it has been—just when it seems like things are just a little too overwhelming, someone will come in from no where with an act of grace or kindness that gives you enough hope to make it to the next minute. 

In a nutshell—

We called our dear friends, Tom, Sharon & Nancy, and asked them to meet us at the house to help me get settled in.  Upon driving up, we saw that our neighbor, Ken, had taken down all of the remaining Christmas lights and decorations that still remained up following our hurried rush to the hospital (so kind—and such a relief to see that they were gone).  I cried when walking by the spot where I had fallen and again marveled how one false move could result in such a huge consequence. 

We set up the house, ate some food, picked up my meds from Walgreens, arranged ourselves in bed, and looked forward to bringing the girls home on the following day.