When I came home tonight, Robert was in bed with the radio going. He was very very still. It was dark. I kept peering at him to see if he was breathing, put my hand on his chest, stepped back a bit and watched some more. I couldn't detect any movement. Then suddenly he was awake. Phew on that. Big breath.
Over the course of the evening, his color has improved. He even came with me when I went to the drug store to pick up more meds for him. (Robert's big adventure.) He sat with me in my study while I perused the day's news on the intertubes. And he surprised us both by staying up for a whole three hours before going back to bed.
It's probably best that he's sleeping through a good portion of this ordeal. I'm pleased that he finally has some pain meds (though why they didn't give them to him before he was in agony puzzles me.) Just before he turned in, he said that he thinks some of the drugs are finally kicking in. I suspect he'll have a bit more of a haul to go, but turning the corner is always a Good. Thing. Another big breath.
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When I had shingles, it took tylenol with codine with a wine chaser (taken under medical supervision - or something like it)to get me to sleep at all. At all. And I'd wake up five and a half hours later. Almost to the minute.
I'm glad it seems like he is turning a corner, and that he's able to sleep on his meds.
Has anyone told him about the six months of phantom pain? I don't know whether they (you?) should, or shouldn't...
What a strain. You'll look back in a few month's time and realise you weathered the storm.It is a nasty illness.
Turning corners is good for the body - possibly for other parts of the person too.
Our best to you both from the Left Bank (ah, would that it were so).
The previous comment was deleted because of my poor proofreading skills (what skills? he asked miserably :-}
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