Iâ€™ve been busy
On May 5th, Ed had open heart surgery, a triple bypass, and a pacemaker was installed. He had a great doctor, had it done at Health Park, premier heart hospital member of the Lee Health system. It is in Fort Myers. It takes 40 minutes to get there over the Midpoint bridge and on to Summerlin, navigating lane changes so that you do not get diverted, which is easy to do. (Translation: this trip terrifies me.) I found an alternate route, that took me back using the Cape Coral bridge, very little traffic. Thank you GPS. Both Sol and Ed put pressure on me to use Uber. I did it once the morning of Edâ€™s surgery. Sol thought I was going to hang out. Well, not for 8 hours until I might be able to see him. Couldnâ€™t reach her to come back and get me so I called Uber. Driver got there, the destination wasnâ€™t in my phone, driver charged me off the books. Lucky I had cash. It was $35. Not an experience I want to repeat. So I started driving it on my own. The other problem was finding my way out of the very complicated parking lot (interspersed with greenery and patches of flowers â€“ truly beautiful). I finally figured it out.
Ed was finally moved from Health Park to Gulf Coast Village, a senior living facility that has an excellent skilled nursing and rehab unit. He was there when he broke his femur. After a haircut and a shave, he looks much better. Since the days I visited him there, their Covid rules have gone off the wall. You must call before you visit, once there, each time, you must fill out a health questionnaire, stay for only two hours, canâ€™t buy food from the cafeteria nor eat or drink in the room. There is a sandwich/salad bar available in Independent living. The connecting doors are coded. Helpful staff, doing it under the radar, coded me in. Had to swindle my way back. Once there I was waylayed by a busybody who wanted to know why I didnâ€™t have an I.D. badge. Who knew? Once I was forced to go ouside and around the buildings to get to it â€“ took 12 minutes. I was not up to it because my back is super bad. I told the receptionist there that Iâ€™d have to go back in a wheelchair unless she could swindle me in. She did that, bless her, and it took under a minute to get back to Edâ€™s room, where I ate my sandwich, sitting on the floor between the bed and the window where I could not be seen. So there, bloody fascists. I wear my mask, I have had my Covid shots, I keep my distance. Petty bureaucrats feeling important is what I'm thinking.
Ed tells me theyâ€™ll release him a week from Saturday, the 29th. Heâ€™ll have to do more rehab at home. Weâ€™ll switch sides in the bedroom so he can be closer to the bathroom. He is using a walker. Heâ€™s doing guardian work on the phone and asking me for things that cannot be found. He has hired Cindy, who just passed the Guardian course, and hopes to learn from Ed. She will do some of the outside trips he has been handling and will handle the filing. Bless her.
Today I saw Anne, my internistâ€™s nurse practitioner. She ordered a full panel of bloodwork to determine if my crippling fatigue is due to anemia (that I am predisposed to have). I was going to drive myself because itâ€™s a snap to get there, but just before leaving my back went ape. Sol, who had the day off from the hospital, drove me and stayed with me. The problem was that my back pain is contained by a lidocaine patch and I had been using the same one for three days. Well, we changed it when we got home. Itâ€™s hard for me to apply it on my own as the pain center is between my shoulder blades. A spasm feels like a heart attack. Anne also prescribed Gabapentin which treats neuropathy. I refused to take it a while back because of possible side effects, but I have decided I will try it. My legs burn from the knee down. Iâ€™m okay when Iâ€™m up and walking but not so good lying down which means the condition can keep me awake at night.
Meanwhile, I share daily e mails with Laura, my very special daughter, who found me after 69 years. We share the minutiae of our lives. Sheâ€™s says Iâ€™m not boring. I canâ€™t wait to see her again, though no plans are afoot. Weâ€™ll have to work something out. When I write to her, I sign myself, "Mom, the original," or "First Mom". We we spoke on Mother's day, and she sent me a super lovely card. Her significant other refers to me as his future mother-in-law. She lives in upstate New York, not too far from the city. For New Yorkers, that in my heart I will always be, "the city" ALWAYS means Manhattan.
All of the above, folks, is why I have been off the radar. Will write again soon. Love you all.