good day

Today was a good day.

I'm sure we'll have many more good days. And many more bad days. But, today was a good day. Yay.

I honestly didn't get to the hospital until 1330, and that's only because Jason's mom called me and told me finance was there to talk to me. Thank goodness, because I was about to leave to go track them down. Still need to figure out how to pay bills via our online banking. Trust me, I'm not retarded when it comes to that stuff, but for the utility bills and stuff that is never the same every month, I'm not quite sure how that works. While his mom is here, we've kinda worked out a schedule where she comes early and sees him off to surgery, because I usually end up staying late. So I try to get here when he's in the PACU, even though I hate that place

Once we were done with finance, they called and said he was in the PACU, so we went down to see him. After about 10 minutes of me being there, the nurse said, "Well, I think he can go back to his room now!" I was thinking, oh God, please don't let him leave and have something crazy happen while we're up there. But Jason's mom said he was in immediate pain after the last surgery, and this time that wasn't an issue at all. They also didn't use ketamine for his anesthesia, and he was as normal as could be! No pain issues, no weird hallucinations, no sat dropping, nothing. Thank goodness, I was really expecting to spend the rest of the afternoon down there.

So we came back up to his new room with a different roommate, because he's no longer on contact precautions. Which he probably shouldn't have been all weekend, but infection control isn't here on the weekends to look at his cultures and clear him, of course. The thing I don't get is, his roommate from the other room who is on contact precautions was up and walking around in the halls yesterday, sitting in the family lounge all day long, with no gown or gloves on. So, what's the point? I think it's just a waste of money unless you're going to strictly enforce that, which never happens. Ha.

Post op lab draws - he was very irritated by this, since this morning they stuck him 11 times they said. Oh I only wish I had been here. He said a couple people poked him 4 times each. No thanks, you try twice and you swallow your pride and go get someone else thank you. His right arm is so bruised, and I think a little swollen still just from all the trauma, and it's the only extremity they can use for IV's and labs. Anyway this guy put the tourniquet on and I saw one from the other side of the bed! He only had to poke him once, thank goodness. But I'm pretty sure he was pissed at the people this morning and not afraid to let them know it. I've been asking about a PICC line all freaking weekend, but in a government run hospital, you can't expect anything to get done on the weekend, which really irritates me, especially in a situation like this. So the PICC team has to come by and 'consult' him - whatever that means, and then hopefully they'll do it tomorrow.

He ate his whole 6 inch sub, and said "This is sad. I'd be on my 2nd half of a foot long right now." after he was only half way in to the 6 inch. "Is this how normal people feel when they eat? This sucks!" (talking about being full so soon - ha)

We rolled him to one side, and the fan was blowing right on his butt crack, and he said "Oh man this feels good, just leave me here for a while." And he was serious. It was like what NOT to do nursing 101 - his face was smashed in to the side rail and everything, but he loved it. I scratched his back a little, assessed for those bed sores (ha!) and he really did ask me to scratch his butt - and I did - just the cheeks people.

The physical therapist came this morning I guess, I missed her. But apparently he is to be sitting as straight up as he can get when he eats his meals, and there are some exercises we're supposed to be doing to help his range of motion in his left leg and I'm not sure what else. Mostly stretching for right now, since he's just been laid up in bed this whole time. He said when he sat up straight, he got really dizzy and nauseous, but he had been NPO since midnight, so I bet it was a combination of him being hungry, and weak. She's supposedly ordering him a special wheel chair so hopefully he'll be able to get in to that soon. It's a motorized one until he gets the function back in his left hand - which apparently is going to take the longest.

Tomorrow he moves to yet another room, around 7pm. Down one floor, they've remodeled everything, and they're all private rooms. We can't wait. These rooms are retarded small.

The orthopedic surgeon in charge of his lower extremities came by today. I had never met him, but he's awesome. Looks super young, but so super nice. He even showed us pictures of what Jason's injuries looked like when he came to Bethesda. Amazing. Well, pretty shocking, but amazing. I almost asked him to send me the pictures, but I have a feeling he'll say no. I mean, these were like from the text book pretty graphic pictures - but the nurse in me must have come out because other wise I'm sure it would have freaked me out a ton. You could see his tibia and calf muscle on the inside of his left leg, a hole probably the length of a banana and the width of a grapefruit, if you can figure that one out - if I remember correctly - pretty much the entire inside of his lower leg with a couple inches to spare from his knee and ankle. Shockingly all the structures are intact, it's just a matter of getting the skin to cover the bone. They've had a wound vac on it, and it will definitely require a skin graft to cover the bone, but the wound size now is apparently like that of an orange I think. He's not excited about the skin grafting, worried about the freakish look, but I think it will be ok. Definitely a gnarly scar, and a chunk missing out of his calf, but it will be ok. He could technically be weight bearing on that leg, but since he's got the epidural, he can't yet. And his right leg, well you can imagine what that looked like. Just insane that that is actually his leg now. He keeps calling it his nub. I said "You could just say your right leg." He said "It's not a leg, it's a nub." I even asked the doctor what the politically correct term for that is - apparently it's "residual limb." Jason likes 'nub' better.

Probably if I had seen the upper part of him, like his face while lying on the operating table, that would've freaked me out a tad. So I guess I was able to separate them. But man, I really want those pictures. One day, when our son is in to gory shit, he might appreciate that. You know, take it for show and tell. Maybe not so much. Jason looked at them, didn't say much besides "Damn, that really sucks. Stupid land mines."

So hopefully within the week they'll start weaning the epidural, and get rid of it, so he can start weight bearing before his next surgery. Well, technically his next surgery is Wednesday, but they're done with his legs until the 2nd of September when they will put the skin graft on his left leg. He's worried about that pain, but we'll just take it a day at a time for now. The doctor also showed us a picture of what it looks like when it's initially placed over the wound - it's seriously like mesh, but it's skin. I didn't realize it was that open. He said they put the graft on, and then a wound vac until it all grows over and together. Crazy what they can do, and so grateful. We'll have to load that area up with sunscreen though, when we take our much anticipated beach trip next summer. Oh, I'm already planning it you see. You'd think I would've learned my lesson about planning. ha.

Apparently the fingers are going to be the problem area. It's his left ring and middle finger, both fractured and with pins in them, and will require grafts also. They tell us those grafts will be deeper skin, not just the superficial layer because of all the stretching and moving your fingers do. I wonder how it was only those two fingers that got it, what exactly happened?

When the RearD called me, they were explaining the whole process, and made it sound like he'd be inpatient for 2-3 weeks, maybe. Now, it's looking like much, much longer than that. But who knows, maybe they discharge them earlier than I think.

He met his 6 month old nephew for the first time this weekend. I can't remember if I've written about that before, but he really enjoyed that I think. He's so excited to have one running around, and crying, and making all the funny facial expressions they make. I'm sure he'll enjoy playing with him. When I was registering for stuff online, I was trying to include him in the process, and asked him which play mat thing he liked better. He said "I want one. Do they make these for big people? Or can I just get one for myself too?!" Seriously. I worry about where he'll be in his recovery when the baby does come. I hope he's pretty far along because I'm not going to be able to care for him like I am now. I hope he has the dexterity back in his fingers so he can help me change diapers. I know he'll feel terrible if he can't help. And I am scared that I'll start feeling resentment if I have to take care of my husband and baby at the same time with nothing in return. And that's not fair to anyone involved. But, I'm sure people have done it.

Of course I have the guilt. If he'd never met me, I wonder if he would've stayed in, and I wonder if he would've chosen to come to Fort Carson, and get placed with the unit he did. I wonder what kind of life he'd be living if it wasn't for me. He'd probably still have two legs and a lot less stress.