Rubbernecking

I hope my last two posts didn’t sound too pessimistic. I’m not. But some days I just feel like I’m stuck in highway traffic in a huge delay and when I finally creep along far enough to see what’s going on, I see the flashing lights, cop cars, fire trucks, EMTs and tow trucks all dealing with the wreckage and the shock hits as I see my other car flipped upside down. I’m stuck peering over the guardrail and there’s not a thing I can do to help.

I think Renee feels the same way, like a spectator screaming at the refs trying to be part of the game. She’s watching the teams march up and down the field yelling, “remember me guys? I’m the ball.” But the ball never does have a say in how it’s tossed around.

Yesterday, we felt like we were back in the loop. Good news will make you feel that way.

The CT Scan results came back as good as they could be. The staff doctor who was scaring the heck out of Renee for the last couple of days was upbeat and almost personable. The gastro-doc was nearly ecstatic. The infectious disease doc said the infection is under control, an oral antibiotic regime for two weeks will follow after release from the hospital is all. The surgeon agreed that all looked well regarding the abscess and removed the drain.

Today we still have the nuclear stress test to look forward to but we’re not worried. Heck, the whole month has been a stress test.

At 11:00PM, Renee got the private room she pleaded for and got a little sleep last night, as much as can be expected in a hospital.

We’re not breaking out the champagne and noisemakers just yet, but it seems in perfect sequence with the season, as the last candle of Hannukah burned itself out, the spark of optimism was rekindled.