Today’s visit to Faina played like a bit out of the Keystone Cops. I came to her room and she wasn’t there, but the bathroom door was closed and the lights were on. “Hello,” and a tap at the door went unanswered and for good reason, she was not there. Maybe she is on a stroll? Stepping out into the hall, the nurse said she was in Nelson, having an Upper GI (Gastrointestinal) series, that she would be there for a few hours, and that I could go over and sit with her. So down I went, two floors, crossed the “Bridge” to the main building, up a hall, down a hall, then downstairs another floor, to Nelson. First I was escorted to a seat while they located Faina. Then I was taken down the corridor to a chair outside of room six and said I couldn’t go in, but that I should wait there for her to be brought out. A few minutes later, the same receptionist came back to me and said, “What is your wife’s name?” As she was bringing me back to the desk from which I had started this dance in Nelson, my phone started to buzz. It was Faina, back in her room. The nurse was embarrassed and apologetic. I told her it was no problem, I needed the exercise. The Upper GI results were good, no leaks.
Faina is still getting up, sitting in a chair more than in the bed, walking around a few times a day, pretty much has explored every inch of the 4th floor corridors, hits the pain medication button with reasonable frequency, smiles a lot more, has good color, talks about the future, and generally has a great attitude about life, the world, and health care in America.
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