Having a quiet week can be ok. After the hospital, I tried to have a normal day Tuesday. Even got some work done, although I also went to OT, which just hurts, as gentle as she tries to be.
Wednesday, Bill and Ben went skiing, even though Bill's got some flu-like illness; I went to see Inside Llewyn Davis. We went to the Wranghams (minus Scott) for dinner, which was a meal and evening filled with warmth, close easy feelings, and -- of course -- good food. And Theresa's the only Boulder County hostess I know who not only actually uses chargers, but has several different sets.
Thursday, I had lots of appointments starting again with the OT. Then, the infectious disease doc, who said the infection was not enough better to start the vac (which arrived in the mail), and who's concerned that all these antibiotics may not be curing the whole problem, even as they have addressed the most acute symptoms. Last was getting my mom from the airport.
Today, we did some errands, I got a tiny bit of work done, but it seems there's always just lots of stuff to do. Mom cleaned out the fridge -- love her! Vicky Mandel swooped in for one of her surprise visits; it was so warm we sat on the deck outside, wearing sunhats. After dinner, Bill helped me change the dressing on the wound -- definitely still angry red and a bit swollen, while Mom watched (she wanted to see the damage). Ben was an especially good kid today -- helping (lamely -- we were both laughing pretty hard eventually) make biscuits for his breakfast, cleaning up, helping his dad clean up after dinner, sitting and having a nice long talk with his grandmother, watching a movie with his still-sick dad.
I also got two good reminders that mine is not the only drama. A friend's dad died. She had to deal not only with her own sense of loss, but her mom, who has Alzheimer's -- like what Bill did last year with his uncle after his aunt died. Then one of Ben's good friend's dad's partner told us her tale of at last getting close to a diagnosis for a condition that has taken her from little to tiny this fall -- she may no longer be absorbing vitamin B12. Fortunately if that is the diagnosis, there's a work around, which makes getting to a diagnosis at last a relief.
I know that more hard things happen as we get older, but it all seems like a lot. And I feel badly that I'm so unable to be there for anyone else.
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