Wednesday through Monday, he was in a regular hospital and then Monday through today, Friday, he was in a rehab center. This rehab center, though, turned out to be a nursing home. A 'skilled nursing facility' they called it. An 'old folks home' is what I knew those type places as when I was a kid. This one was very nice, but it wasn't any different. Sure there were a few folks rehabbing there... but honestly, they were 95 year old stroke victims and Rick really didn't belong there.
I fought Rick's doctor to get him into a rehab facility... and I fought the facility to get him out. The surgeon didn't think he needed it but he finally relented and okayed the transfer. Once there, the doctor there didn't want him to leave. Of course he didn't. Money is everything, I've learned. And I was actually paying for this place... which was quite a surprise to me. I had believed that his insurance would cover the expense 100% like it did back in September when he had his hip replaced. Not sure what was different this time around... but not only was I paying for this nursing home, I was paying more for this facility than I was led to believe I'd be paying. I couldn't get him out fast enough. The doctor couldn't keep him in long enough.
So, all that said, Rick came home tonight. Is he ready? I sure hope so. Am I ready? No. But I'm too poor to keep him in any longer. And Rick got tired of all of the old folks there that were asleep in the hallways. I can't blame him.
So who IS glad he's home?
One very depressed little doggy. She was completely forlorn that her best friend wasn't around.
And tired. Yes, she was tired of me.
She glared at me sometimes. She seemed angry, like I was the one that wouldn't let her daddy come home.
And ... so, yes. I took Midnight to visit her dad.
Was she happy? Well, she ruled the bed.
Rick was banished to a chair. Midnight was a happy dog. Not sure how happy Rick was, though.
So, looking back, he went from this...
... to this.
And tonight he's home. The above photo is his last moment in "the home."
And tonight he's home. And it's 12:21 here and he's still sitting in our family room, glued to the TV. Nightline is on. You'd think he hadn't watched any TV for the last nine days.
Don't believe him when he tells you he didn't.