Going Vertical

Paul’s first attempt to get out of bed and take a few steps came  hours after surgery.   The surgery was a great success and he was feeling so good, relatively, he wanted to see if he could walk to the bathroom and pee standing up.  The nurse carefully got Paul out of the bed and there he was, standing in all the glory of his hospital gown, a firm grip on the walker and determined look in his eye.  His good buddy Rex was standing close, at the ready.

“Rex, help me get to the dang bathroom.”  Walking slowly, gently placing his weight on the surgery-side leg and with Rex on one side and the nurse on the other, he walked to the bathroom.  Hallelujah, he was able to move under his own power and feeling less pain.  Relief flooded my heart.  Paul negotiated the 10 steps and stood close to the toilet, ready to celebrate his victory.  Rex stood by his side while Melissa and I waited back by the bed, wanting to give the guys a tad of privacy.  All was quiet.  After a few minutes, I heard Paul say, “Rex, I’m having trouble getting started.  Turn on the water in the sink, will you?”  Rex leaned over and turned the water on.  Melissa and I listened to the water running in the sink, but after a few more minutes there was still only one steady stream. 

“Rex, can you put your hand in there and make it sound like a waterfall?  I think that will help.”  Rex obliged, and Melissa and I tried to keep from laughing.  Paul began to talk out loud, encouraging himself.  “Come on, let’s get down to business.  What are you waiting for?  Dang it, the running water should help!”  Finally Melissa spoke up.  “You know, you can always go back to bed and use the urinal or try again later,” she said hopefully. 

Eventually that is what he did.  Shuffling back to his raised hospital bed, muttering about water and being a dang pansy he let us ease him back to bed.   Moving first the injured leg then his torso, tiny increments at a time, we maneuvered his body into alignment, stopping for him to rest after each move.  Once he was straight in the bed, we adjusted the support stockings, strapped on the required blue foam pillow to keep his legs apart and aligned and lowered the top of his bed until he said it was better.

In his good spirits and still filled with anesthesia from the surgery, Paul released me from spending the night at the hospital.  Not wanting another night in the recliner and desperately in need of a few uninterrupted hours of sleep I gratefully accepted.  He was asleep almost before I left the room and I high tailed it out of there before he could change his mind.

At home in my warm bed on a featherbed topper and under a down comforter I said a prayer of thanks and set my alarm.  Tomorrow was bound to be another interesting day.