Tuesday evening, my mom said she felt like the day was too good to believe, like she'd wake up the next morning feeling like she'd been run over.
I didn't visit on Wednesday because I had church, but she called me Wednesday afternoon she called me to ask me to email my dad to ask him to bring her digital camera to the hospital that night to take pictures of the flowers she's gotten before they wilt (my wiredness is a blessing ;) ). She said she felt much worse than the previous day -- that she really missed the epidural (they took it out on Tuesday and put her on Percoset as needed, and by Wednesday all the residual drugs from the epidural were out of her system).
From my dad's update email on Wednesday:
Today's good news: the bladder catheter is removed. She peed three times! She has advanced from clear liquids to opaque liquids. Milk! Custard! Chocolate ice cream!Tonight I had a nice, quiet, lowkey visit with my mom before the last session of my Jesus and the Gospels class. (She saw I was wearing a sweater under my hoodie and said it must be cold out :) I said it was a predicted high of 29F, so...) I had the sense that she was feeling better today than yesterday.
The bad news: Her body is waking up and starting to say, "We have been abused; we are not working well; we are not happy." Also, I suspect she is moving from comparing herself to the drugged out, tubed up, immobile person she was a few days ago to comparing herself to the competent, mobile person that she was before and wants to be again. The first makes you think, "Wow, I am so much better." The second, "Boy, do I have a long way to go."
From my dad's update email tonight:
Barbara said she woke up this morning "less sick but exhausted." She's doing more and it's not easy. On the other hand, she has always been pretty tough.
As the drugs continue to wear off, she says that everything the last week had seemed "distant." Somehow it wasn't personal even though it was happening to her. Now she's reconnecting. It is a mixed blessing.