Category Archives: Surgical room 19

Perfect Moment Monday: I am not

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than about creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between.

We gather here once a week to engage in mindfulness about something that is right with our world. Everyone is welcome to join. Details on how to participate are at the bottom of this post, complete with bloggy bling.

Please visit the links of the participants at the bottom.
Here’s a perfect moment from my week. I hope you’ll share yours, too.

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I am not a widow.

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Once you make a Perfect Moment post, you can place this button on your blog.


I Capture
Perfect Moments.


Now. What Perfect Moment have you recently been aware of? Be sure to visit these moments and share the bloggy love.

Eyewitness Accounts

I’m going to confess. I’ve been using an alias for my husband’s name all this time. He’s not really a Rob; he’s a Roger.

Why am I telling you this now? Because I have some links to share, links that use his real name. We’re stepping out of the bloggy witness protection program into the sunshine.

Our friend Mark, who I mentioned here, has posted his account of the accident. You can find it on the most excellently named blog, Suburbistan [now password protected].

Another bachelor party attendee, Ian, whipped out his video camera after the accident. watching it was a little disturbing, yet I also needed to see it to get my own mind to stop trying to re-create the events. It is oddly calming to have the actual footage instead of that of my inner Stephen Spielberg. Roger watched it and said it’s not disturbing to him.

Feel free to skip.

Roger is doing much better today. He’s holding court with batches of visitors, his voice strong, his jokes flowing. I can tell just from his ability to talk with normal force that he’s recovering his lung function. The chest tube is not flowing clear yet, but it is improving. He’s also able to do two laps around the ward at a time. Clotting is still not permitting an epidural; I think that option is no longer on the table (but it may also not be necessary).

I am doing mo’ betta, too. I read many of your comments right before I went to bed last night, and I slept well. I went to a yoga class this morning, and have taken the time to eat well.

Thank you all so much for your loving care. “Verklempt” is a word made for this occasion. Truly.

Roger, Day 4

To get up to speed (haha, like 35 mph), see this post.

When we last saw our hero, Roger, the trauma surgeon was focused on staving off pneumonia in his “really banged up” lung. The pain meds are not giving enough relief from the chest tube (bigger than my thumb in diameter) for Roger to breathe deeply into his lungs. His breathing remains shallow, and the xray shows he is using only the top half of his lungs.

An epidural would solve the pain problem, allowing deeper breathing to take place. But his blood is not clotting perfectly, and anesthesiologists will only poke holes in the spines of people who have perfect scores on clotting factors. Picky, picky.

The best we can do, then, is to have Roger walk around a lot, sit up a lot, and work on his breathing exercises. He can now inhale 1750 ml of air. Today’s target is 3000.

Tessa and Reed visited today on their way to our family’s 50th anniversary celebration for my parents. The whole fam-damily (except for Roger and me) is heading to Park City for a week of recreation and togetherness.

The kids enjoyed hanging out with their Daddy, and they even helped get him up and walk him around the ward. Unfortunately, there was quite a bit of wailing when it was time for Grandma and Grandpa to get them in the van for the trip. But Mom tells me that stopped as soon as the DVD player came on. God Bless Tolkien.

Roger’s had visits from friends and neighbors. People are bringing me meals. Food shows up in my fridge, still bare from our trip last week to Boston/NY State. Offers to help and words of love are pouring in.

This kindness makes me cry more even than the situation does. I don’t know why. I am exhausted, having trouble sleeping, and raw. The idea that people have so much goodness in them just brings me to that core place where I am all tears.