One more day...hopefully?

Hi everyone:

During a conversation late this morning with Dr. Larkin, a colleague of Dr. Costanzo, he suggested that Patty has a reasonable chance of getting out of here tomorrow, provided a few things resolve themselves by then.

Naturally, all we heard was, "You're going home tomorrow." A few moments later, when he said, "We'll try to get you out of here in the next day...or so.", we heard, "You're going home tomorrow." If they tell us otherwise tomorrow, we'll simply pretend that Patty can't hear until we've loaded her into our car and pulled away (with them chasing after us, yelling), whereupon I'll turn to Patty and say, "Did you say something?" When nurses have said today, "See you tomorrow," Patty has just smirked, because she knows she's leaving tomorrow.

For Patty to leave tomorrow, as has been promised, here's what needs to be worked out:

• Pain management is a key factor. Patty needs to be able to function with meds not delivered via I.V.; she has cut down considerably, but has still had moments in which she had to "push the button."
• Respiration is a bit of a concern still, although everyone seems to feel that Patty could deal with this at home, perhaps with oxygen brought to our house.
• And the last issue is one to which anyone who has required several days of narcotics and anti-emetics can relate; she has to resolve a constipation problem (or, as her nurse refers to it, "that pooping thing.")

Patty found out today that much of her pain may have been worse than in "typical" situations, because (a) she was unable to receive the epidural, and (b) Patty's torso is smaller than that of most other patients who have been through the procedure, so more stretching between the ribs was required to place the device; fortunately, though, the stretching worked, because the only other option would have been to break one or more ribs.

In my opinion, Patty looks much better today than on any other day since she arrived. She's been walking regularly and at a relatively brisk pace, and has spent most of the day in a chair rather than in bed. She's even getting a bit of an appetite.

No wonder her doctors have made an oath, on their grandparents' graves, that Patty will be sent home tomorrow.

Please keep your fingers crossed...

Love,
Brian

P.S. If doctors have simply been playing a cruel trick on Patty--you know, saying "You're definitely going home tomorrow" when what they mean is, "You might not be going home for another day," they can reasonably expect a couple of very antsy people in room 2623 from daybreak Wednesday.