Ok, now six days out from Tim's surgery. Still taking meds, but at least he is eating and sitting up reading and watching TV for longer periods of time. He is getting a little depressed too, I think from the meds and boredom.
I got out to go to the doc's today!!! Yippee! I am not used to being indoors for such long periods of time and I don't like it. What can one do? We have an appointment for Monday with T's oncologist who has been suspiciously absent since we came home from Stanford. Not sure why but she has been very difficult to reach, even after repeated calls. We finally touched base with her assistant yesterday who blamed it on phone tag. Well, we will know more of the treatment plan on Monday.
So much has happened, it's almost comical. My right arm, Tim's right shoulder. Between the two of us we have one pair of arms and both lefties at that! At least Tim's will get better over time to a point where he can use it. Mine, not so. Tim's orthopedic surgeon at Stanford, upon learning of my accident and loss of my arm, told a story of his mentor who'd also loss his arm. Apparently, he was "dynamite fishing" (I know, why?) in Africa and thought he had a stick of dynamite with a long fuse. He was wrong and it blew up in his hand, severing his arm. After I'd said that I was 8 1/2 miles down a dirt road, no towns for an hour and a half when I had my accident, he said his mentor had to drive two hundred miles by himself to the closest hospital.
My reply to his story was, "OK, I'm trumped. My story is nothing compared to that." The point of this grisly tale is that his mentor's motto is, "There's nothing you can do with two arms that you can't do with one." I ALMOST agree with him. As time goes by I find myself more able to do things. It's all very difficult, but I am adapting.