Just a quick update.
After talking with the gastro-enterologist this morning, I had high hopes for being home tonight. The plan was to have real food for breakfast (bland, but definitely solid) and switch to an oral antibiotic instead of the IV drugs. If I handled that well, I could sleep in my own bed, in my own clothes.
Then, I talked with the OB and as much as I didn’t want to, I had to agree with her take on it. She felt it was safer to spend one more day here, give myself close to 24 hours on the oral antibiotic while still someplace where action could be quickly taken if it didn’t do the job and the infection came back with the attendant pain. The alternative was to send me to the comfort of my home only to have to return in the middle of the night if something went wrong.
But, I’ve had the IV removed from my elbow, so I have full use of both arms again and can position myself much more comfortably. I spent almost all day out of the bed and actually got to SEE this hospital. I’ve only ever seen it while lying on a gurney or being wheeled to the nearest door. I do have to compliment them on one thing. When I was here in December of 2007, right after Lennox’s membrane ruptured the food was about as close to inedible as I’d ever encountered. I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt with it being Christmas weekend and working on a skeleton holiday staff, but I remember calling home on Christmas Eve where my Mom and Dad and Shannon were having dinner, begging them in tears to bring me food because I couldn’t identify I single thing on the plate they brought me and I was starving. The two full, regular meals I’ve had here, while not anything I’d voluntarily seek out, have been quite good. I’m impressed. I didn’t expect my chicken breast to have fresh thyme and rosemary on it and I certainly didn’t expect cream of potato soup made with real potatoes AND real cream. It’s one of those small things that makes a HUGE difference when you have to be away from home, frequently lonely, and not feeling very good. So, I can tough it out until tomorrow morning.
And hopefully, this is the last drama of this pregnancy. Don’t think it hasn’t weighed heavily on our minds that today I’m at 21 weeks. Two years ago, I’d just hit 22 weeks when I found myself in a room six doors down from where I’m sitting right now.