Well, it feels like I've been living on a helicopter pad for the past two weeks. Take offs and landings right outside my penthouse hospital view of the city of Fort Wayne, knowing that everytime they touch down a life is in the balance and the good Samaritans are hot on the case - it's definitely exciting.
Besides that, life is pretty quiet and small. My room is my own, so Mom and I can watch movies to put us to sleep without worrying if our quirky flicks are bothering anyone. I have enough neon colored bracelets to make a punk-rocker think I've just spent two weeks concert hopping... I bequeath my hot pink "Limb Alert" band to Kevan when I leave, and I'm saving my ironical lemon yellow "Fall Risk" band to go to the first boy who actually falls for me. Souveneirs to take home are a new nebulizer machine and cough assist mask, though I asked to take them home personally because they will be found and comfiscated by mischeiveous Burmese boys if not properly supervised at all times.
I have a balloon that two princesses brought me, chocolate and lollipops just waiting to be devoured as soon as the nurses stop monitoring my sugar levels so closely, and classic books of fiction various people have read to me as I wheezed and dozed. Thank you for the countless cards, facebook notes, emails, visits, and phonecalls that have kept my spirits up during this long retreat.
Yes, I did say retreat. Not exactly Las Olas, Florida, or Asheville, NC, or Lake Michigan, as I had been planning, but... it stopped me in my tracks and forced me to rest. I should have taken a hint after an ER run last weekend, but all that did was made me realize that I was prescribed steroids that would only give me more energy to do more stuff in a week... God vetoed that idea really fast. So a day later, back to the ER... a thousand pokes and procedures later, I'm pitifully nibbling on mashed potatoes like a bird and sleeping most of the day away. Mom is here, and that is a great comfort in many ways.
Don't know when I'm getting out of here yet. I missed our first youth group tonight, and I'm restless and frustrated and just want to be in the action again. Doctors are being cautious and slow in making calls, which I suppose is a good thing. Doctors are good people, by the way. And nurses and NAs are too... I feel the need to make that statement now before I get better and forget how much they have helped me. I had one nurse who would sing and dance whenever I needed her to as she crushed my pills, another who pretty much fired a respiratory therapist for being too agressive, another who told me to stop whining (which I needed to hear), and another who held my hand for the third ABG and told the guy to go back to his lab and figure out a way to "do that without hurting people."
Thanks again for your prayers and love, and keep it coming! Pray that I can leave soon, and that when I do I will be careful to recover well and do the things only God wants me to do with my energy. Love to you all.