I think it's time for the weekend recap.

I only know this because I asked Abbie tonight what day we were in, and we determined that it is, indeed, Sunday.

Ben has been in the hospital since Friday morning having round two of the surgery merry-go-round that started last May. This is supposed to be the last of it, the surgeon's final answer. So far, so good. I'll spare you the gory details, but it appears that things will be fine in the end. (A few of you will get that. The rest of you don't want to know.)

After his surgery Friday, he was brought up to his room around four in the afternoon. I hung around for a while, making sure he had everything he needed, was comfortable, the nurses had him all settled in, etc., and I went home to collapse in bed. All that sitting around the waiting room is exhausting.

Saturday morning I was putting a chicken in the crock pot and getting ready to go for my weekly long run, when I decided to text Ben to see if he needed anything. I found out he hadn't slept at all, was in a lot of pain, and felt like he needed to get out of bed and would I please come help him because no one there would. I threw on my jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed my computer, and headed for the hospital. (I had visions of the time my grandfather was in the hospital and got sick of all the tubes, so he just pulled them all out, including the one that went clear down his throat into his stomach.) When I got to the hospital, Ben was sleeping (of course), so I stood watching him for a while. When he woke up, I got the rest of the story.

Apparently, the evening before, the whole here's-your-pain-button-push-it-whenever-you-need-it explanation got lost in the morphine drip, and he spent the night with no pain relief. He called the nurse a few times and she very sympathetically explained that honey, you've just had surgery (No! Really? Is that why I'm here?) and you're going to have some pain, completely ignoring the violent spasms going on from his ribs to his hips. When the anesthesiologist came to see him early Saturday morning, he took one look and said, "Okay, we're going to up your meds."

Thank you. 

So they upped his meds and he slept all day. On the upside, I got a lot of work done. He eventually woke up and we bundled up his tubes and went for a shuffle around the 4th floor's west wing. Then he slept again.

But little by little, he's getting there, gaining some energy, going for short walks, sleeping it off, and today he even graduated from ice chips to chicken broth, and watched some football. There's light at the end of the tunnel.

In the meantime, I haven't done anything more than read about running. Tomorrow I'll try to change that.

Be thankful ~