Fluffing pillows
After James hops into his bed in the evening, I make tiny adjustments to make sure he's in alignment, comfortable but not in a position that will over flex his neck or squish his feet too close to the edge of the bed. I usually lean in close to fluff the pillow under his head and when my face is close to his, James smiles at me and reaches out to hug me. The simplest of gestures feels like a flood of love. I am moved.
An oral surgeon came into James's room looking like a desert creature from the Star Wars films (old school). She had her hair hidden by a blue scrub cap and strange, round magnifying glasses with pin point lights attached to the top with a face mask. I guess she had just come from surgery and was in forward motion mode. She moved quickly around to the bed to examine James but then stopped and asked me for a summary of the situation. She looked at me through her magnifying glasses and now, it seemed as if she were Groucho Marx in his role as Dr. Hackenbush, a veterinarian posing as a doctor, in A Day at the Races. She was too young to be an oral surgeon. I swear, she walked around the room in that classic Groucho bent-over-and-leaning-forward stride.
After I told her about James's case and she did a quick inspection of his mouth, she took everything off her head and she was a such a fresh-faced woman! I am relieved that James's doctors took my concerns seriously by sending the oral surgeon over for an assessment. She did not notice any infection, although, one tooth definitely had a cavity--she will take X-rays tomorrow to confirm that there is no infection present or immediate need to address his teeth. I will breath easier if I know that I need not be focused on his mouth as a source of bacterial infection. If he needs a root canal or teeth removed, the oral surgeon will be able to advise. I need that for my sanity.
James was curious to hear more about his time in intensive care since he heard me speak about it to the oral surgeon. He had questions. I told him about his first and second surgeries. My hysterical bout of crying when I gave consent for the first surgery over the telephone. I tried to keep it light since James is still fragile. I tried to tell him the funny aspects such as not wanting to scare baby Felix, our friend Naomi's one-year old boy, on the morning I ran Imogen over to her house so that I could rush to the hospital. I was crying the quick walk over, apologizing to Imogen for my inability to keep it together and then, the rush of feeling at seeing happy Felix reach out to say hello. I felt like an insane Janus face--smiling at Felix, looking away to gather myself back together again, and then, back smiling at Felix.
James wanted to know when his brothers arrived at the hospital, how I communicated to his parents--he wanted to be back in that space to understand it.
He could not fathom how the doctor could open his skull. I told him, "A saw I imagine." I also explained how his neurosurgeon was beautiful woman. How perverse is that--a gorgeous woman sawed into your brain! He liked that a lot.
I watched the occupational therapist stretch his shoulders and arms today. James has a wider range of motion than first thought because once the OT made an adjustment with the placement of his scapulas--moving his clavicle out of the way, in a sense, from his shoulder movement--James was able to move much further with his arms. Another occupational therapist that has not worked with James but has seen his progress in the gym asked if she could help. They both confessed that James is one of their favorite patients, even though they are not supposed to even think it--definitely not give voice to it. I am grateful that James's sweetness is still evident to others.
James did not do any painting today. He wanted to sit and talk. He wondered when he would return to teaching and had other questions about his responsibilities in the world. I explained that we would take it slow and that everyone understood that he was recovering.
I have to get to bed. I arrived home tonight to find our tall plant in the kitchen covered with ants! Argh! I saw a few ants this morning and hoped it would not get too out of control during the day. I purchased ant traps this afternoon. I spent an hour cleaning the plant of ants, squishing stray runaways, and cleaning the kitchen window that was covered with the sugary sap from the plant that attracted the ants in the first place. I accidentally broke off two large branches from the plant--a money tree--and felt it was a problematic sign.
On Monday morning, I awoke to a bamboo branch that we brought back from Japan falling directly on top of my alarm clock. I was startled, rubbed my eyes, and the bamboo was perfectly balanced on the clock. I was definitely spooked. I did fluff my own pillow and stole a few more minutes of sleep.
An oral surgeon came into James's room looking like a desert creature from the Star Wars films (old school). She had her hair hidden by a blue scrub cap and strange, round magnifying glasses with pin point lights attached to the top with a face mask. I guess she had just come from surgery and was in forward motion mode. She moved quickly around to the bed to examine James but then stopped and asked me for a summary of the situation. She looked at me through her magnifying glasses and now, it seemed as if she were Groucho Marx in his role as Dr. Hackenbush, a veterinarian posing as a doctor, in A Day at the Races. She was too young to be an oral surgeon. I swear, she walked around the room in that classic Groucho bent-over-and-leaning-forward stride.
After I told her about James's case and she did a quick inspection of his mouth, she took everything off her head and she was a such a fresh-faced woman! I am relieved that James's doctors took my concerns seriously by sending the oral surgeon over for an assessment. She did not notice any infection, although, one tooth definitely had a cavity--she will take X-rays tomorrow to confirm that there is no infection present or immediate need to address his teeth. I will breath easier if I know that I need not be focused on his mouth as a source of bacterial infection. If he needs a root canal or teeth removed, the oral surgeon will be able to advise. I need that for my sanity.
James was curious to hear more about his time in intensive care since he heard me speak about it to the oral surgeon. He had questions. I told him about his first and second surgeries. My hysterical bout of crying when I gave consent for the first surgery over the telephone. I tried to keep it light since James is still fragile. I tried to tell him the funny aspects such as not wanting to scare baby Felix, our friend Naomi's one-year old boy, on the morning I ran Imogen over to her house so that I could rush to the hospital. I was crying the quick walk over, apologizing to Imogen for my inability to keep it together and then, the rush of feeling at seeing happy Felix reach out to say hello. I felt like an insane Janus face--smiling at Felix, looking away to gather myself back together again, and then, back smiling at Felix.
James wanted to know when his brothers arrived at the hospital, how I communicated to his parents--he wanted to be back in that space to understand it.
He could not fathom how the doctor could open his skull. I told him, "A saw I imagine." I also explained how his neurosurgeon was beautiful woman. How perverse is that--a gorgeous woman sawed into your brain! He liked that a lot.
I watched the occupational therapist stretch his shoulders and arms today. James has a wider range of motion than first thought because once the OT made an adjustment with the placement of his scapulas--moving his clavicle out of the way, in a sense, from his shoulder movement--James was able to move much further with his arms. Another occupational therapist that has not worked with James but has seen his progress in the gym asked if she could help. They both confessed that James is one of their favorite patients, even though they are not supposed to even think it--definitely not give voice to it. I am grateful that James's sweetness is still evident to others.
James did not do any painting today. He wanted to sit and talk. He wondered when he would return to teaching and had other questions about his responsibilities in the world. I explained that we would take it slow and that everyone understood that he was recovering.
I have to get to bed. I arrived home tonight to find our tall plant in the kitchen covered with ants! Argh! I saw a few ants this morning and hoped it would not get too out of control during the day. I purchased ant traps this afternoon. I spent an hour cleaning the plant of ants, squishing stray runaways, and cleaning the kitchen window that was covered with the sugary sap from the plant that attracted the ants in the first place. I accidentally broke off two large branches from the plant--a money tree--and felt it was a problematic sign.
On Monday morning, I awoke to a bamboo branch that we brought back from Japan falling directly on top of my alarm clock. I was startled, rubbed my eyes, and the bamboo was perfectly balanced on the clock. I was definitely spooked. I did fluff my own pillow and stole a few more minutes of sleep.
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