She’s still in the hospital. They’ve been giving her heparin and Lopressor. The heparin shots burn like hell and leave a nasty bruise, but that’s evidently a normal reaction. She’s also been through a bunch of tests, including the classic treadmill stress test.
She’s chipper, if rather tired, and very eager to go home. We’re hoping to get her sprung today; we’re just waiting to hear from the attending physician, who at last report was muttering “more tests.” “I’ll do them as an outpatient!” she says. “Lots of people need this bed more than I do! I don’t want to go on the cart!” Okay, she tends to say that last after the hospital people leave the room.
Since 1 AM Friday, I’ve only been in this hospital a few hours a day, and I’m ready to commit homicide in order to get out. She’s been here 24/7. Ay yi yi.
We’re just beginning to think about how we need to change our lives in order to keep this from happening again. Some commitments are going to have to go.