With my new mobility I had a new pattern. That was to visit my sister and bring her lunch from the deli. Not overly exciting. Got to hear her complain and say how she was going to change her life again. No more smoking, excercise, all that crap. She also had to endure a hellish ride back to the surgeon via ambulette so her surgeon could remove staples. She was in pain and crying, he told her to not be such a baby. Oh this guy was such a prick.
Still walking and taking time to enjoy the time off. Knew it would not come again like this. Saw neighbors here and there. Paid bills, called insurance and stuff. I wasn't sleeping as much either, I was happy about that.
By now my right hand, remember the finger numbness, was much improved. The left was still rather numb. I was able to do little things. At some point my brother in law had decided that it was better to drink 6-9 beers a night rather than kill an 18 pack over the weekend. Yeah I never saw the logic there either. Just a point to let you know I was very alone in my recovery.
My sister really lost it in the rehab. I would get hysterical calls from rehab how she couldn't take it there anymore. I tried to do my best, but it was for her own good. At one point she felt that it would be a good idea if she came home and just went there for rehab. Not sure she was rational. It endured.
Weekends were spent visiting. Think brother in law took the dog up to see her once. She was still bleeding a bit. Visit went well enough. It was a toll on her and credit must be paid. It was during those visits I realized she was smoking again. Sorry but what assholes. Anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment