I have a tentative plan for tomorrow. In the morning I will wait as long as I can stand it here, and then drive down to the hospital, put Connor in his wheelchair, and roam the halls aimlessly until I either get a phone call saying Jer is here or it's more than an hour past the time I know he's supposed to be here. If I get a phone call I will immediately go to his floor and see him. If I don't get a phone call I will pick a random floor, go up to the nursing desk, and refuse to leave until I am directed to where he is in the hospital.
This is of course provided his plane isn't diverted to, oh, Guam or something because they determine he must have a coconut crab (WARNING: Do NOT click on that link if you are at all afraid of land crabs the size of small dogs) to wear as a therapeutic hat. Hey-- after the kind of week I've had I totally believe it could happen, though I hope it won't. A coconut crab hat would be kind of terrifying.
Um, anyway this morning I took Connor in for a g-tube change. This was the first time I'd changed the mic-key button, as he's only had it since May, so I wanted to make sure I was already in the doctor's office in case there were any issues. So our GI doc watched me change out the tube (which was easy but made a terrific mess) and we chatted about Jer and how the next few weeks are going to look. The old mic-key button probably could have lasted quite a bit longer, but it wasn't something I wanted to have to worry about, so I'm glad it's taken care of for another four to six months.
I'm slowly adding new words to my vocabulary as we find out more about Jer's injuries-- it always makes me feel better if I have a good understanding of the medical procedures and terms involved in whatever our latest crisis is-- and I feel like I have more of a rapport and receive more information from the doctors when I can rattle off terms like "bilateral open calcaneal fractures" instead of just saying "broken heels." Whenever we see a new doctor of Connor's I don't consider it a successful meeting unless they've asked me what area of the medical profession I'm in.
Hopefully by the time Jer gets here I'll be well on my way to becoming an expert in lower extremity trauma management. That's (thankfully) not subject matter we'd covered with Connor thus far, so it's all new territory.
Keep your fingers, toes and any other convenient body parts crossed that Jer is able to make it here!
Even if the coconut crabs are disappointed.
~Jess
4 years ago
9 comments:
Okay, can I just say, I love the video of the coconut crab! Thanks for the humor and know that we are all crossed here! Mollyshannon
With all that you have been through, gone through and are going through you know you are one hell of a woman.
Gees, I hope he doesn't have to have coconut crab treatment. That would suck--for the crab I mean. They like walking around free instead of being stuck on someone's head, don't they? Hmmmmm.
I'll bet you are just screaming inside to get to him. That would drive anyone NUTS! I hope it is today. I hope it is early. And I hope the hours and minutes pass quickly for you all.
Love to you, Jess. You are an incredible woman--just in case no one has told you that this morning. I love how you educate yourself to deal with all that is going on in your life. Wow. You are something.
Hoping you get to see him today!
I seriously hope your post tomorrow states that Jeremy is home (and not in Guam having a party with cocunut crabs).
I have to say, I'm surprised such a frightening looking creature is on the endangered species list. You would think that other creatures (including humans) would take one look at the giant thing and say, "I'm leaving THAT alone!"
Hope your reunion is everything you have hoped for - you've had long enough to psych yourself up!
(Why, why, why did I click on that link?!!)
Everything I have is crossed. Your son is adorable and I love reading your blog. You have such a great sense of humor!
May I recommend an alternate plan? Just as you are getting Connor ready to go, you get a call that Jeremy is on the premises, settled in, and ready for visitors, with exact coordinates of his hospital room, and a wheelchair-equipped helicopter arriving within minutes to whisk you away to his waiting embrace. You must admit it's got a certain appeal.
After everything you've been through, you should get an honorary medical degree.
Loki vs. the Coconut Crab...that would be an awesome sight.
I hope that as I write this, you're with Jeremy (or are at least very close to being with him). Thinking of you guys.
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