Color Jim Happy!

If nothing extraordinary happens,  Jim will be released from the hospital tomorrow. ( Well THAT'S extraordinary!)  His blood-count numbers are stable, the elusive low-grade fever is gone, and it is time for him to say farewell to the four walls he has been staring at since the 12th of December. Color him happy!

We have transformed our dining room into a bedroom for him. The drapes have been removed and laundered, new bedding purchased, carpet steamed, woodwork scrubbed. The theory is that spending time downstairs where the family is nearby is important in helping him readjust his outlook from one of "hanging on" sequestered under the blankets to one of emerging from the tunnel into daylight, with his new stem cells.  And as nurses go,  I am starting to look good.

Color me....um a little intimidated, but better than earlier in the week. I had a mini melt-down at the thought of bringing this trunk-load of eggs that is my husband into a less than operating-room state of purity. And then cooking for someone with a variety of restrictions.

Part of my mission in writing this blog is to share experiences and their subsequent ripples with you, my reader. With that in mind, some observations.

1. Life in general is fraught with inconsistencies. I'm someone naive enough to believe if I have all the pieces, I can make things add up, and if they don't I keep probing.

2. In my lifetime, rules have gone from serving the patient to serving the large institutions, including but not limited to the medical community. Our litigious society has brought many financial settlements to certain people, sometimes even justified, but it has caused the same unexpected consequences as Political Correctness has. You never know if you are talking about actual facts any more, or if you are on the spongy moss of double-speak.

These two factors deeply color the idea that I can take care of Jim adequately at home. The manual I was issued outlines a well-established protocol of neutropenic protocols and diet.   Soon the dietary restrictions will be relaxed, and as a caterer I am fully aware of safe food practices.  Most of the remaining food restrictions don't even pertain, as he does not usually frequent restaurants, eat sushi regularly, visit salad bars, nor fast food establishments much (bye for now, Burger King).  

Visiting nurses and physical therapists will be pencilled into the spaces where we are not frequenting the garage under the doctor's office thrice weekly.  Little grandson Drew is staying with his dad for the next few days.  And I am assured that I am perhaps over-worrying.   But we come back to the fact that  rules are written for such a broad cross-section of humanity, and discreetly protect the hospital  from harm (i.e. law suits) that they would NEVER understate danger, nor fail to recommend you wear two pairs of suspenders and a couple of belts.  Why wouldn't they?   I have read warning labels that contain absurd precautions.  I recognize that.  But here, I can't tell what is the "do not use this toaster in your pool" from the warnings that are necessary for Jim.   So after having sat down and having a rational chat with myself, I have decided to re-read the book so I don't miss anything, and apply "Keep it Simple" techniques and assume that if other people have survived their discharge from the hospital, so will Jim.

But just incase, don't stop praying quite yet.