Bits and pieces

Steve has a new symptom that isn't worrying us yet but is worth noting.

His vision is changing, especially with too much light or not enough light. Images are blurrier, and he has trouble distinguishing objects.

His left side is still much weaker today than three weeks ago. We realize that this could still be a side effect of the respiratory problems and his body being weak overall.

*****

His fatigue is debilitating. He spends the majority of the day in bed; that is most unusual for Steve. His body is just too tired for sitting up for long.

*****

The hospice home health equipment vendor arrived yesterday to set up their hospital bed. The previous vendor wasn't here yet to break down the old bed, so the hospice people took care of that. Then the old vendor showed up and took his bed away.

The old vendor also wanted to take the wheelchair that we've been using since Steve came home from rehab at Zale. The hospice-provided wheelchair is heavier and harder for me to push. So I told the old vendor, "No." Politely, of course.

I'm trying to work out an agreement with our insurance company that allows us to keep the first wheelchair.

*****

I've been giving Steve blood thinner shots in his belly every afternoon. The procedure at home is more complex than in the hospital. I draw the medicine from a vial instead of using pre-measured, spring-loaded needles. Steve never flinches and says he doesn't feel anything.

Still, I have no plans to pursue a nursing degree. I'm most thankful for professionally trained nurses (including Cyndi, who trained me at home on the procedure).

*****

The home health aide began work today. She sat in the kitchen with us as Steve ate breakfast and Katie painted. Katie talked nonstop for about 20 minutes -- a good introduction to life at our house!

She then helped Steve with a bath and with dressing. She'll spend 90 minutes a day, three days a week, at the house to help Steve.

*****

Katie and I were visiting yesterday morning while I was cleaning the kitchen.

She suddenly said, "I have a sadness because Daddy's tumor and crazy eye won't get better."

This is not something that we've told her. We always talk about hoping for and praying for his tumor to get better. (We also make no promises that it will get better.)

This was her own conclusion.

I wrapped her in a big hug. She held on tightly for a few seconds.

And then we worked on building a new Lego set.