Sylvia's Journal

Friday, 20 July 2007
Today was a bit of a rollercoaster – all good still, but I think it’s beginning to sink in with my father that this is going to be a long journey. My mother got then news today that she may be discharged tomorrow – she has a meeting with a physical therapist in the morning, so the final word will come after that. We are coming prepared with a dress from Burkina so she can be rolled out in style, if need be. Upon hearing this news my father pouted a bit and said “that’s not fair, I want to go with her…” If only.
She is doing really well today – her face is a lovely peach and she used the private toilet for the first time, although it’s not so private, I suppose, when you have two nurses and your daughter watching.
She had some lovely food today; fruit plate again, hummus, tabouleh, nice chocolates from Doug & Sallie Craig Huber (which we nibbled on all day). A bountiful cornucopia of fruit and cheese and other goodies arrived from Phil & Bobby, which mad my father’s cat food meal look sooo vomitous. I am thinking about bringing a blender in – he’s on a puree diet, but one can puree just about anything with the proper blender. A cheese/sausage/apple/pear/popcorn smoothie might actually be pretty good, no? Tessa and Steve spent a lot of time with him today and lovingly fed him orange mush, and fish mush that looked like it had soap bubbles in it. Oh – and the bottle of “No-Rinse” reappeared in my father’s room this morning, and the PCA washed his hair with it (that’s my job, lady…). I imagine it much like one of those Mormon commercials – “I’m sorry, Sylvia, I took your “No-Rinse,” I’m really sorry…
Dad listened to a bit of Harry Potter while I paid some bills and had a very, very nice talk with a woman from T-Mobile, who, upon hearing the news, credited my cell phone with 200 free minutes to accommodate all the extra calls this month. My mother found this very comforting/touching (as did I, it was a warm gesture). I actually think it was the first time I had seen her shed a tear since this whole ordeal happened…She said it was really nice to know that there were good people even in really, really big conglomerate companies, good to know that good people were empowered to do good things.
My mum’s machinery arrived this afternoon – a wheelchair and a walker with an arm rest thing – I am going to suggest that we spray-paint it fluorescent orange so she doesn’t get lost at night when she escapes from the cage we are going to keep her in. It should be very interesting having the run of the house with her out of commission…We’re going to have a good time!
She’s not too much of a movie person, but there may be some times that Jim, Steve, Tess (and Joe Sterling) and I may want to go hit the town, in which case, it would be good to be able to cuff her down and plop a movie in on repeat…I jest, I jest. But if you do have any movie suggestions that don’t involve plane crashes or hospitals or axe wielding maniacs, let us know. I think I will be taking full advantage of my Netflix account in the nest couple of months.

Another big piece of news today is that Axel will be having surgery on his arm on Monday morning at 7:30am. They will be administering general anesthesia, and will have a breathing tube put in (this time much more gently, and he will be asleep, so it won’t be traumatic, or scary or anything like that). The anesthesiologist was very reassuring, and seemed highly competent, even with her Patriots head wrap on. I met again with the orthopedic lady who told us all about the actual operation – they will put a rod through his bone and put screws on either end. Simple enough for me – I don’t need to know any more. The operation will take about 2.5 hours, then he will be in the recovery room for a few hours. After this is over, and he’s back to bed, some other team will come in and will evaluate how long they think he will need to recuperate from the surgery – after that, off to rehab! It seems like they might send him to Shaugnassey (?) in Salem – which would be great for us caretakers – less driving, more family time.
I’m sure I’ve missed something – oh! My father has moved. The man in the room with him was really sick, moaning and groaning, screaming, and his family of 43 was around his bed all day (all very nice folks) so they decided to move him to a private room, and gave my dad the window bed, as Tess and I have been requesting. This is a much nicer setup – much like my mother’s – he now has a sill on which he can keep all the beautiful bouquets of flowers they have received – One of the nurses came in and said, “It’s like a regular greenhouse in here!” We did some interior decorating, as we had done in Sylvia’s room – hung some new curtains, put knick knacks and photos all around, found some nice old blanket of Herman’s in case he gets cold – looks quite homey I must say.
Tonight was the most fun part of the day – after my dad got situated on his new side of the room, we wheeled my mom in with a handful of roses for a nice Friday night TV date. My father wanted to try to stay up as late as possible so he could try to sleep through the night, so he thought it’d be nice to be old farts together and watch tv, hold hands and sip on Styrofoam cups of cranberry juice and zoethout tea. It was a very romantic scene when Jim and I finally left at 9:30 – them holding hands, her spoon-feeding him yogurt, watching Monk. I felt at peace leaving them like that, it felt complete, they looked absolutely beatific and charming and so in love.
Hopefully tomorrow you will have an update from Sylvia herself – she has been frantically writing all day today, and I’m sure she’s got a lot to share with you from her side!
Thanks again for all the support!
xoxo, a very sleepy sita.

Side note: Just got home from the hospital – wrote in the car, which seems to be the best way to maximize my sleep time, but came home to find Steve and Tess still awake. We’re having a Friday night after all, sitting outside in Oma’s lawn chairs and watching shooting stars – another welcome break. Tomorrow Steve and I will prepare the house and Tessa and Jim will man the hospital – Tessa’s cell isn’t working but you can reach Jim at (508) 369-9517 if it’s necessary to call – but please, only if you need to arrange a visit. Otherwise you can call the hospital and ask if he’s in the mood to receive visitors.
And – if you call him, please be prepared to have no longer than a 30 second long conversation – He is always really excited to hear peoples voices, but it’s hard for him to hold the phone up for too long, so if you call – let him know who you are, say hello and make him laugh, let him know how important he is/how it’s going to be so great when he comes home – and then let it be. Please, please, please don’t say “I’m so glad you’re alive…” Today this caused some problems because he’s beginning to come to terms with the fact that he could have died/had more brain/spine/etc injury, and this is a really big burden – it’s is making him worry, get upset, and get “freaked out” as he said today. Try to keep visits upbeat, positive, fun – simply letting him know you are there and thinking of him and are saving a nice dinner and a cold beer for him seems to be a good approach. We have yet to read him any of the comments, or show him any pictures because it’s all too soon, too real, too scary at this point. There will be plenty of time for longer conversations! The flowers are beautiful, the cards sent to the hospital are lovely – He is very aware that a million people are sending love his way, but to actually receive something in the room seems to really cheer him up.
I will post photos of their Friday night date later on my flickr account (the link is in the link section of this site).
Good night all.
s.

By the way – we finally sorted out all the name errors today. Axel is listed under Richard Magnuson, and my mother is Sylvia Vriesendorp (instead of Vresbsenforp or something like that!). I forgot to mention that Joan was released today and taken to Spaulding Rehabilitation Center in Boston – I am curious to hear how her time there is – sounds like a lot of hard work.
My father is currently in room 413, my mother 409.

Tessa and Steve arrived today – after a long long day of flight delays and bad weather and a steward who actually told them ‘Sorry for the delay – we’re going to get you to Boston as safely as possible…’ Very reassuring indeed. In any case, they finally made it to Worcester courtesy of the Katie Blair and Andrew taxi service – thanks for that! When they came to the hospital they had easy access to both Axel and Sylvia because, believe it or not, they are now living only a few doors apart!

Axel was released from the ICU today in the late afternoon/evening. He is currently in room 413 (not a window seat, unfortunatley) and has been totally ‘unplugged’ from all his drips/meds. He had a ‘lovely’ meal today of what looked to be catfood and powdered mashed potatoes and a side of pureed carrot. It’s amazing how four days of not eating makes even animal food look good. He had a pretty eventful day leading up to his transfer – last night at midnight he had a 2.5 hour MRI session that (oddly enough) really interruped his sleep. He felt jostled and prodded, and was a bit fed up with things this afternoon. He kept saying ‘I’m ready to go now…’ He also was able to stand upright today – the nurse told us that the fractures in his pelvis are actually very minor (they looked at the 3rd set of x-rays today), and that he is able to put all his weight on his legs when standing. This is really a remarkable thing – it means that he will be able to more self sufficient than we had previously thought during his rehab time.

He is still a bit groggy/loopy – but i get the sense that this will pass with time. His neighbor is an older gentleman named ‘Franny’ or Frances, whose whole family was visiting today and (as Axel tells me) had a very philosophical debate about sinners in America. They have a smiley face on the whiteboard at the end of the bed that is saying ‘Jesus loves you and so do I…’ I drew a picture of a dinosaur with hearts all around it on my dad’s.

When he came to the 4th floor, they wheeled my dad into my mum’s room and they waved and visited for a few moments, then later she hopped in a wheelchair and raced down the hall to see him. They sat for quite a while and my father talked about how the tough Irish nurses in the ICU had bossed him around. Later, when he asked if he could brush his teeth, the attendant (Henry) said, ‘Sure – you can do whatever you like!’ to which my father dropped his jaw and said – ‘wow. that’s the first I’m hearing of that! The ladies upstairs were brutal!’ The freedom to brush the teeth is a good freedom to have.