The first day home was fun for both Rick and our dog. More for the dog, I'm afraid. She wouldn't leave Rick's side. I was invisible. Never mind that I was the one who cooked for her and cleaned and pottied her and treated her, etc. I was suddenly invisible.
Day 2 and things were still going smoothly ... although Rick was showing signs of being in a bit of pain. I tried not to worry because the next day, Friday, went wonderfully. I woke up on Friday morning to find Rick in the kitchen making coffee and walking around freely, sans walker and cane. He was smiling. He said, "Look! I'm feeling great!"
And I smiled, too.
But the weekend didn't go quite as well. And today, Sunday, I've finally admitted that yes, surgery is necessary and is definitely on the horizon. Rick will be making the call tomorrow to start the ball rolling.
But I'm not going to focus on the surgery yet. I can't. I just can't. Instead I thought I'd show you what it looks like when Rick Kahle checks out of a hospital. It pretty much looks like this every time he exits a hospital.
I kid you not, people come out of the woodwork to say goodbye and wish him well. One lady walked past me and said, "Hi, Kristina! Take good care of him!" I did a double take. Um, had we met? Nope.
She quickly explained that she knew who I was because Rick and she were PT buddies and he'd told her all about me.
Nice of him to use my full name...
I wonder what he told her about me? Besides the fact that I HATE my full name...