Part 3

In two days, Rick will have been out of the hospital for a week.  That could be better said... as of today, Rick has been home from the hospital for five days, I guess.  Either way, Rick is home and continuing to improve.  At least in my eyes.  And that's all that matters.   He looks good but he moves slow.  But I can accept that.

Yesterday, yes, FIVE days after he got out of the hospital, the nurse finally remembered to come and check on him.  I almost didn't feel we even needed her anymore.  Rick, in my eyes, was doing fine.  My eyes see all, you know.

However, my eyes seemed to have missed something.

The nurse made Rick walk for her and then she examined him head to toe... and her eyes saw something completely different.  She noticed that Rick's left shoulder seems to slope downward, where the right one doesn't.  This, she said, fits in with the guess that he had a small stroke.  Or several small strokes.  There was also the notion that Rick was overdosing on his Phenobarbital, too.  And that it just wasn't flushing out of his body. 

No matter what the cause was of what happened last week, Rick looks good and I just can't wrap my head around the fact that he's not well yet.  Nope, can't and won't do it. 

And yet, I have to.  The nurse decided that Rick needs a lot more attention.  I knew she was going to order physical therapy for him but I had no idea that she would also determine that occupational therapy was necessary.  And speech therapy. 

And here's the real kidney punch... Rick has been declared 'homebound'.  Yep, homebound.  HOME. BOUND.   No going out no more.  Nada.  'cept for an outing to church and an occasional trip out to dinner.  Otherwise, home bound.  Bound to the house.  I am not happy about losing my slave secretary/errand boy.  Not one bit.

So what did I do?

We went out to eat.  We had to.  I don't take being homebound well.
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