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rikibethHUGE thank yous to everyone who posted with advice.
Christy came home Monday evening after dinner. Monday was a little hectic, because our regular family doctor was called away on an emergency, and she was the one who had to sign off on the orders to let Christy out that day as the endocrinologist suggested, rather than keep her in the hospital more.
So Monday went like this:
I go to work at 5:30 AM. The usual: 3 dozen muffins, 20 scones, six brioche rolls and six sticky buns, and four tea breads. Blueberry, carrot ginger raisin, and strawberry banana muffins; the usual raisin scones and plain brioche stuff, and banana sour cream walnut bread, in no small part because the semiweekly delivery came in and I *saw* the guy accidentally knock a sour cream container -- minor damage and no contamination, and rather than send back a tub I *knew* was fine, I said "gimme that, I'll use some today and let them think *I* broke the edge opening it." It worked. That got me to around 8 or 8:30 AM. There wasn't much else to do, so when Jen came in, she had me make a tray of lemon bars, and then I could go home.
Go home, carrying paycheck. Do some housework -- laundry, vacuuming, that kind of thing -- while waiting to hear from Christy about when she's getting discharged. Discover that Charlotte forgot to take her fundraising packet to school even though it was right next to her backpack. Get the news "it's today." Pull pork chops from freezer for dinner. Pack change of clothes, shoes, and purse for Christy. Get Mark, get in car. Drop off fundraising packet at school office. Go to hospital. Find street parking because the parking garage rates are starting to hurt. Get slightly rained on. Mark sits with Christy, because she's still waiting for the actual release papers (umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand, gonna tell the governor, gonna free her man), I get October mortgage share check from Christy and go to bank. Drive back from bank, have sudden attack of cleverness, stop at house and collect Christy's fleece jacket ('cause it's getting chilly), shift some laundry around, and also collect shampoo, conditioner, and hair dryer, because Christy dearly wants to wash her hair, would rather do so at home, but won't go another day without it, and I figure if I make it POSSIBLE for her to do so in the hospital, she won't HAVE to do it there. Kind of like lighting a cigarette to make the bus come, except I don't smoke.
Get back to hospital. Find street parking again. Discharge orders signed, but they want to keep Christy for dinner, so they can do one more blood sugar test and watch her inject her insulin, so Mark goes home to be there when Charlotte gets home from school, and I settle in with my knitting -- the Gryffindor scarf. Mark very cleverly packs up all the stuff Christy won't need before she goes home, and takes her prescriptions with him, to drop off at the pharmacy.
I finish a stripe and switch colors. Christy eats her dinner, around 5:30 or so in the evening, and Mark calls in the middle of it, so we tell him "come in now, we can leave soon." He does, all goes according to plan, Charlotte dances around singing "Christy's coming home," which we totally expected, and braced for it. Stop at pharmacy, Christy picks out a glucose monitor of the brand approved by her insurance, we also collect Diet Dr. Pepper and a little packet of sugar-free sour gummi slices as a comfort treat.
We get home, and JUST have time to put water on the stove for tortellini, because I'm not going to do the pork chops if Christy's already eaten, when the first member of our music consort arrives for rehearsal. No, we didn't *neglect* to cancel it; we couldn't really AFFORD to cancel it, because the next performance is in three weeks. Eep. At least I didn't have time to mess up the living room between Charlotte's birthday party and then, but it wasn't like I'd PRACTICED or anything. Mark doesn't really have to practice much, since he's playing bodhran.
We managed to have a productive and sociable rehearsal in spite of the chaos; the Hendrickses brought their son Michael along, so he and Charlotte played board games in the kitchen while we rehearsed, so that was nice for them too. Christy had her sound machine and her closed door, so she was untroubled by squeaking recorders, piercing finger cymbals, or loud children. She made an appearance to assure everyone she was alive, and then retired; all was well.
The dishwasher's finished the dry cycle, and I've got to get bread in the oven; more later.
Christy came home Monday evening after dinner. Monday was a little hectic, because our regular family doctor was called away on an emergency, and she was the one who had to sign off on the orders to let Christy out that day as the endocrinologist suggested, rather than keep her in the hospital more.
So Monday went like this:
I go to work at 5:30 AM. The usual: 3 dozen muffins, 20 scones, six brioche rolls and six sticky buns, and four tea breads. Blueberry, carrot ginger raisin, and strawberry banana muffins; the usual raisin scones and plain brioche stuff, and banana sour cream walnut bread, in no small part because the semiweekly delivery came in and I *saw* the guy accidentally knock a sour cream container -- minor damage and no contamination, and rather than send back a tub I *knew* was fine, I said "gimme that, I'll use some today and let them think *I* broke the edge opening it." It worked. That got me to around 8 or 8:30 AM. There wasn't much else to do, so when Jen came in, she had me make a tray of lemon bars, and then I could go home.
Go home, carrying paycheck. Do some housework -- laundry, vacuuming, that kind of thing -- while waiting to hear from Christy about when she's getting discharged. Discover that Charlotte forgot to take her fundraising packet to school even though it was right next to her backpack. Get the news "it's today." Pull pork chops from freezer for dinner. Pack change of clothes, shoes, and purse for Christy. Get Mark, get in car. Drop off fundraising packet at school office. Go to hospital. Find street parking because the parking garage rates are starting to hurt. Get slightly rained on. Mark sits with Christy, because she's still waiting for the actual release papers (umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand, gonna tell the governor, gonna free her man), I get October mortgage share check from Christy and go to bank. Drive back from bank, have sudden attack of cleverness, stop at house and collect Christy's fleece jacket ('cause it's getting chilly), shift some laundry around, and also collect shampoo, conditioner, and hair dryer, because Christy dearly wants to wash her hair, would rather do so at home, but won't go another day without it, and I figure if I make it POSSIBLE for her to do so in the hospital, she won't HAVE to do it there. Kind of like lighting a cigarette to make the bus come, except I don't smoke.
Get back to hospital. Find street parking again. Discharge orders signed, but they want to keep Christy for dinner, so they can do one more blood sugar test and watch her inject her insulin, so Mark goes home to be there when Charlotte gets home from school, and I settle in with my knitting -- the Gryffindor scarf. Mark very cleverly packs up all the stuff Christy won't need before she goes home, and takes her prescriptions with him, to drop off at the pharmacy.
I finish a stripe and switch colors. Christy eats her dinner, around 5:30 or so in the evening, and Mark calls in the middle of it, so we tell him "come in now, we can leave soon." He does, all goes according to plan, Charlotte dances around singing "Christy's coming home," which we totally expected, and braced for it. Stop at pharmacy, Christy picks out a glucose monitor of the brand approved by her insurance, we also collect Diet Dr. Pepper and a little packet of sugar-free sour gummi slices as a comfort treat.
We get home, and JUST have time to put water on the stove for tortellini, because I'm not going to do the pork chops if Christy's already eaten, when the first member of our music consort arrives for rehearsal. No, we didn't *neglect* to cancel it; we couldn't really AFFORD to cancel it, because the next performance is in three weeks. Eep. At least I didn't have time to mess up the living room between Charlotte's birthday party and then, but it wasn't like I'd PRACTICED or anything. Mark doesn't really have to practice much, since he's playing bodhran.
We managed to have a productive and sociable rehearsal in spite of the chaos; the Hendrickses brought their son Michael along, so he and Charlotte played board games in the kitchen while we rehearsed, so that was nice for them too. Christy had her sound machine and her closed door, so she was untroubled by squeaking recorders, piercing finger cymbals, or loud children. She made an appearance to assure everyone she was alive, and then retired; all was well.
The dishwasher's finished the dry cycle, and I've got to get bread in the oven; more later.
