164 days

[muckefuck]

monshu is home. He came home Saturday and the honeymoon isn't over. As you all may recall, the weekend after he was discharged last year was one of the most wretched of my existence; I can't recall ever being so exhausted and strung-out. So I was bracing for the worst this time and...it hasn't happened. He's getting around fine on his own. There have been no accidents or spills. Well, he did yank his bag while getting out of the shower and start leaking a little serous fluid, but Mom and I got him patched up quickly and everything seems fine.

In the meantime, well, he had a shower. Can you imagine what it must be like to finally shower after nearly half a year of nothing but sponge baths? He was out of bed at least a dozen times yesterday without me having to help him once. He even cooked his own breakfast. His legs are still weak and he can't get by without the walker, but he's not nearly as worn out by the end of the day as I expected. Indeed, he's often up later than I am.

And I'm not as destroyed as I thought I'd be. Mind, that's not to say I'm not tired after helping him with tasks AND helping Mom AND getting the regular chores done, but it's not bone-tired. I actually sleep at night (moving to the back bedroom helped) and I'm not ready to spring from the bed at the slightest noise. Last night I actually slept without my phone within arm's reach for the first time I can remember since this all started.

I know there will be setbacks. We still don't know if his nutrition is adequate. At some point, his dressings will probably fail catastrophically. He might scald himself or catch his tube on something or even fall. But every day that goes by, the possibility retreats slightly--along with the prospect of him being readmitted.

Comments

[danthered.livejournal.com]

Well, hey, that all sounds like a pretty good scenario, all things considered!

(Me, I'd run the water heater right out of hot water, then towel off and wait and do it again. And again. And again.)