The good doctors sent me home Friday afternoon, since I was able to totter down the hall and keep liquids down. I guess their rationale was that if I wasn't puking or in uncontrollable pain, it would be better for me to heal up at home, what with all the nasty infections that exist in hospitals these days. I've spent most of that time on Tylenol 3 and Valium, in my jammies, sipping fruit juice through bendy-straws (GASP!), and generally being pretty out of it.
Lo and behold, what should show up on my doorstep this morning? My quilt.
Oh my.............
Sara, it is gorgeous!!!! I hope you saved pictures to post. Everybody should see this, and I can't find where my husband put our digital camera. It is simply beautiful, and so soft! The backing fabric is perfect in my sea-glass color den. It's like being wrappped up in a giant Hallmark card. Yeah, I know that sounds really sappy, but you guys should see some of the print squares, they are awfully cute. If Chandra Teh Pootie King tries to use it as a scratching pad, like he did one of my great-grandmother's old quilts, I am going to banish that little furbutt from the den.
Okay, the progress report: I am in a C-collar 24/7 until I see my doctor Thursday. I only take it off when I sponge-bathe. I can make it up and down the stairs, but I can't lay down in bed -- I tried. No dice. So it's a good thing I have that recliner in the den.
Yesterday I kind of overdid it, went for two walks around the block, and wound up sleeping twelve hours last night. /ducking and running so Nurse Kelley doesn't whack me But they want me to walk, and to get up to 30 minutes of walking every day. I think that's going to take a while.
Violet is visiting her breeder for the next week or so, until my doctor tells me my neck is stable enough to manage her. I miss her, but she'll be back soon. Meantime, the cats are enjoying being lords of the manor.
My voice is slowly improving from the breathing tube they inserted for the surgery, and swallowing is getting easier. I'm still doing liquids and soft foods (oatmeal, applesauce, soup, ice cream), but that's getting easier, and I'm able to take bigger sips. The stupid straws are just because I can't tilt my head -- I don't want to mess up my neurosurgeon's beautiful work. Frankly, I'll be glad when I can drink normally, because room-temperature coffee is teh suck -- but I don't want to burn my mouth sipping hot coffee through a straw.
The best news is this: 95% of my problems are gone. No neck pain, except for some soreness. Shoulders are completely pain-free. The headaches that wrapped up the back of my head and around my skull are gone. The only vestige of arm pain left is a touch of numbness along the outside edge of my right hand, including the outside edge of the pinky finger. This is so incredibly superior to what I had been going through, it isn't really worth muttering about. So if anyone else on the East Coast needs a neurosurgeon, e-mail me, I will give you the name and number of this surgeon. He's terrific, does great work, does his level best to preserve your range of movement, has a fabulous bedside manner, and isn't even offended if you throw up apple juice right in front of him, like I did.
Again, thank you, Sara and everybody else, for my quilt. It is beautiful, and it means a great deal to me. You guys are the best.