Home again, home again . . .

Bob was discharged from the U around 3 p.m. yesterday. Penny and Jim decided to leave before then, to beat the crappy freezing rain/snow/slush/god-only-knows-what-else that's purported to be descending upon us some time in the next 24 hours. They stayed long enough to help me clean house, chisel some leftover ice-snow off the deck and driveway, watch Rocco while I took Gaia to the vet and ran a few errands, and to take me to Warner Stellian to pick up my new little "deep freeze," and get it set up and plugged in, in the basement. WHEW! Busy morning!

I can't tell you how thrilled I am to have a freezer . . . a freezer of my own . . .it's the cutest thing, a giant cooler. I can buy all the frozen fruits, veggies, chicken breasts, flax seed and hemp waffles, ice cream, Jack's pizza's (those last two are for Bob) I want, without worry that I'll run out of room and have to dig out an igloo-freezer in the front yard or rent space in the neighbor's freezer for the overflow, or hear the wrath of Bob: "Are shrimp going to become extinct?!? Because we have 14 bags of shrimp in the freezer and no room for anything else, I was just wondering. . ."

I know it was a hard decision for Penny and Jim to leave before Bob came home. The weather reports are threatening freezing rain turning to snow, with winds picking up . . . could be a treacherous drive heading into southern MN, if they left too late. But, I know they really wanted to go to the hospital to pick Bob up, too. But that would mean they wouldn't leave here till after 4, when it's getting dark and potentially more dangerous. Their agony and heartache must span an endless chasm . . . shatters my heart into countless pieces, thinking about it. Jim said this before, when Bob had his heart attack, and he's said it again: "He may be your husband, Jen, but to me, he's still my little boy . . ." I promised to call when I got Bob home safe and sound.

After Penny and Jim left, I went to pick up Bob. No valet parking at the U on weekends, I discovered, so I had to park my own car. In a ramp. A whole block away. And it's raining. Dammit. A girl gets used to that royal treatment quickly . . . but, I quick discovered the fabulous tunnel system that connects the ramp to the hospital, so I didn't have to brave the elements at all! Just parked and scurried along, like a hamster in a Habitrail, over to the hospital. Bob was lounging on his bed, shoes and coat on, waiting for me. His nurse, the cutest, sweetest li'l rocker-chick who said, "like" and "excellent" a lot, but knew her shit and treated Bob with the utmost concern and attention, came in and gave him his discharge orders. I ran down to the pharmacy to pick up all his prescriptions. Included in his meds was something the staff at the U called "Magic Mouthwash." Cute. When I looked at the bottle the pharmacist handed me, on the label, I read the words, "Magic Mouthwash." Wow. They seriously call it that. It's a "proprietary blend" of lidocane, Maalox and benadryl that Bob's to use several times a day, to numb his mouth. (Okay, it's not really proprietary; after doing a Google search on it, it appears to be a common formula prescribed for mouth sores). It'll help with the sores, and also help him when he eats. Numbs the mouth so it's not so tender and sore. Kind of a double edged sword, however; eases the pain, but deadens the tastebuds . . . He dozed off most of the ride home, and when we got home, continued to doze on and off.

Lots of naps since we got home. I haven't seen him sleep this much in I don't know how long, though, I'm sure the new medications must account for some of it. I like to think he's making up for lost time . . .

He woke up early evening, saying he needed something to eat. After declining everything I could think of that we had in the house, I suggested the Ensure chocolate milk shake (with ice cream procured from my new freezer!); that sounded good to him. He ate half of it pushed the rest aside, said it was too rich . . . We decided that maybe the combination of ice cream and Ensure was a bit over-the-top, calorie-nutrient-density-overload. One or the other, ice cream or Ensure, just not together . . . I've already got a new malt in mind for next time—vanilla, malt powder, milk, and then I'll swirl chocolate and carmel within the malt. Maybe Dairy Queen is hiring . . .

I continued with laundry, made salsa, dishes . . . Bob finally decided to lie down on the bed in our bedroom. Within a few minutes, I heard loud, deep, rhythmic breathing. Technically, snoring. Three months ago, I'd have closed the bedroom door and turned up the TV in a huff. Now, I think it's the most beautiful sound I've heard in a long time . . .