Holy cow. I can’t believe it’s September. Labor Day is like the beginning of the third trimester when you’re pregnant. You’re in the home stretch of a long (at least it seems that way) journey, but the difference with this journey is that once the big day arrives (i.e. Christmas), there is nothing left to look forward to. I hate winter. I love fall and the colors and the sweater weather, bonfires, and all the good stuff, except maybe pumpkin spice everything. But the fact that this time of year is only leading up to my most hated time of the year kind of dampens my spirit. I really need to be a snowbird.
We don’t normally do much for holidays such as Labor Day, and this year, we have done even less, not because we necessarily wanted to do less, but since most things were canceled or curtailed, there just wasn’t much to do. This year is even more different because Earl is basically confined to his chair and his walker. Last week he had a gluteal medius tendon repair which entails him being in a hip brace for six to eight weeks and only “toe-touch” weight-bearing on his injured side foot.
His surgery was successful and we were in and out of the surgery center in about six hours. Everything seemed to be going well, that is until about 7:00 p.m. when he asked me to look at why the back of his shorts felt damp. And wow. The entire bandage (about 12″x 6″) was entirely saturated with blood. Not a good sign. I wasn’t sure what to do and I finally decided I would call his surgeon. His surgeon wasn’t on-call, but the one that was said we should definitely go to the hospital to have the bleeding checked out.
I’ve been to the ER several times in the last year when dealing with my AFib and each time, I was got great, fast treatment. I guess when you go in clutching your chest, it gets you a little extra attention. We got to the ER around 7:30 p.m. and sat in the waiting room until around 9:00 p.m. We were then taken to a room and saw a nurse briefly. They keep the sliding frosted glass door to the room closed now so throughout the next four hours, we only saw someone briefly. The Physician Assistant finally came in and looked at the leaking incision. (It was like someone had turned on a little faucet; a lot more blood than I was comfortable seeing come from an incision).
She left and called the surgeon who said to just steri-strip the incision, test his red blood cell count, and then send him home. Okay, we were making progress except for the nurse the PA asked to take his blood never came in. About an hour later, I poked my head out and happened to see the PA who had treated him. I asked her how much longer it would be before his blood was drawn. She was surprised that it hadn’t been done and ultimately, the nurse manager came in and did it. It was a rapid test, results were back in about 10 minutes and about 30 minutes later, a little after 1:00 a.m., we were on our way home.
The last couple of days he’s done remarkably well. He had a rough day on Tuesday, which was expected, but since then, each day he seems to be feeling better. I told him he’s really going to owe me because he can’t do much of anything unless I bring the chore to him (he can fold clothes sitting in his chair lol). He has a walker, but because our aged baby girl (i.e. dog) can’t negotiate the tile floors without rugs, it was a toss-up as to who gets to move around. My husband, of course, voted in favor of the dog.
So on this Labor Day, and probably for the next couple weeks, I have to remind him that taking care of him is not a burden, it is a Labor of Love.