different
Everyone keeps telling us how great it must be to be on "this side of the surgery."
It's not.
Not really.
"Great" isn't a word I'd use to describe it.
I might use the word "relieved" - in hearing the best sarcoma surgeon in the world say, "clear margins."
But there is the terror of hearing, "well, what we can see."
I might use the phrase "less anxious" - about the surgical process now that it's over, but there is always concern about infection, the drains, and rehabilitation.
I could say it was a "tender" moment to tell our kids that Rico was awake and asking about them. But there is some sadness in watching Yoda curl up in wheelchairs to pass the time, or to have her spending sweet summer days in the car, or ordering from the hospital cafeteria. It's her new normal, and will be for a while.
But by far, the least "great" part is leaving Mayo.
Rico said it himself, "Mayo is the Marriott of hospitals. Nothing else really compares."
Least of all a nursing home.
Maybe it's because it's the weekend. Maybe it's because we were planning on something else and were told last minute they didn't take Mayo patients, maybe it's because Mayo spoiled us for everything else - the people, the facilities, the attention to detail, it's as perfect as a hospital stay can be. Needless to say, a nursing facility is well, different.
No need to go into too many details, but I will say that the one nurse who took it upon herself to "wean Rico from his pain meds" two days after his last surgery, and mere hours after his transport from Mayo, without Rico's consent OR a doctor's order, had Rico going full New York on her. As you can imagine, he got his medication.
But he also got a personal delivery of fresh cinnamon rolls and garlic rolls from Crack of Dawn bakery - because those guys are the best. Nobody, tried to wean him from those - even though they're better than oxycodone.
It's not.
Not really.
"Great" isn't a word I'd use to describe it.
I might use the word "relieved" - in hearing the best sarcoma surgeon in the world say, "clear margins."
But there is the terror of hearing, "well, what we can see."
I might use the phrase "less anxious" - about the surgical process now that it's over, but there is always concern about infection, the drains, and rehabilitation.
I could say it was a "tender" moment to tell our kids that Rico was awake and asking about them. But there is some sadness in watching Yoda curl up in wheelchairs to pass the time, or to have her spending sweet summer days in the car, or ordering from the hospital cafeteria. It's her new normal, and will be for a while.
But by far, the least "great" part is leaving Mayo.
Rico said it himself, "Mayo is the Marriott of hospitals. Nothing else really compares."
Least of all a nursing home.
Maybe it's because it's the weekend. Maybe it's because we were planning on something else and were told last minute they didn't take Mayo patients, maybe it's because Mayo spoiled us for everything else - the people, the facilities, the attention to detail, it's as perfect as a hospital stay can be. Needless to say, a nursing facility is well, different.
No need to go into too many details, but I will say that the one nurse who took it upon herself to "wean Rico from his pain meds" two days after his last surgery, and mere hours after his transport from Mayo, without Rico's consent OR a doctor's order, had Rico going full New York on her. As you can imagine, he got his medication.
But he also got a personal delivery of fresh cinnamon rolls and garlic rolls from Crack of Dawn bakery - because those guys are the best. Nobody, tried to wean him from those - even though they're better than oxycodone.
Comments
...and don't take away my pain meds.