I had an easy flight down to Texas on Thursday after an extremely short night and trip through the dark up to the airport armed only with a giant bottle of Diet Coke and loud 90’s rock on the iPod. When I got there I discovered that none of the little check in places in the airport open until 4:30 so next time I can stay home a wee bit longer.
I bought two tickets for this trip, not just one, because I didn’t want the stress of being squished into a seat and looking at the loathing on the faces of the people near me. In fact, as I was getting to my seat on the first flight, I overheard two people in the row ahead of me talking about how bad it was to be squished next to an obese person for a 6-hour flight. I couldn’t stand it and spoke up to say that, you know, the obese person was probably more uncomfortable than you were, and sometimes – right now, in fact – many of us do buy extra space so we don’t make anyone, including ourselves, feel that uncomfortable. They had the grace to look chagrined and I didn’t cry, though at that early hour, it was close.
Got to east Texas without a hitch and have spent the last few days just hanging out with my mom and dad, taking little slow walks with Mom, carrying her 5-lb vacuum pump and letting her hang on to my arm, or helping out with meal cleanup. The neighbors have been wonderful and are continuing to bring dinner, plus the freezer has enough soup to last them until April, so I haven’t needed to cook much. Tomorrow after church I’ll do some laundry and scope out where my help is needed most.
Mom looks good and is getting better slowly. I had a chance to see the wound when the home health nurse came yesterday to change the dressing – and it’s ugly, a wide slash of skin and a deep hole. But Dad says that it looks much better than it did almost 2 weeks ago when they first hooked her up to the vacuum pump and it’s a nice pink color. Mom moves with some considerable discomfort, especially after the dressing is changed, and it’s awkward to remember where the tubes are so you don’t sit on them or get them twisted up. But her spirits are good and she’s determined to get rid of her little box because she wants to go shopping and get back to normal. It’s going to take a while but we know that she will get there.
Tomorrow is church in the morning, though Mom will stay home with her box that sounds as though it’s either burping or farting loudly, which would be disruptive in a quiet service. She’ll do TV church instead and talk back to the preachers, which is always fun. We’re setting up their new digital picture frame and I have some computer cleanup things to do as well to make myself useful. Monday is our trip to the surgeon for the post-op followup visit, which will tell us a lot about her progress and how long the recovery will be. And Tuesday I head home. Keep your fingers crossed for good weather.