Wednesday, July 28, 2010 — Careful what you wish for.

Of course we've been dreaming of the day when Skip would be out of ICU because it would mean that his condition would be significantly improved. Out of the blue, we arrived this morning to find out the move was about to happen. Skip's numbers were all so improved they were calling for the change. We were thrilled at the news and spent our time in the third floor waiting room and paying quickie visits to the new room as they scrubbed the walls and prepared the space for this "very important person." The room is tiny but has a great window looking to the southwest sky with evergreen trees in the foreground.

When we finally got the word that the move had taken place, we rushed to make at least eye contact with the patient through the room 319 door window. They evidently were preparing for today's dialysis to begin and there obviously wasn't going to be room for us. So I waved to Skip, threw him a kiss and poked my head around the door far enough to tell him we'd be down in the courtyard having lunch.

When we returned to the third floor we walked by the room and saw that the dialysis nurse was setting up for the next three hours. A high old time was spent in the waiting room with Elena holding forth instructing and overseeing a very complex origami construction of a healing ball for a young man in ICU whose fiance had sat with us the day before and shared the story of her life with Brandon. He was losing the use of his very brittle lungs. She said she'd pray for Skip and we said we'd pray for Brandon. Elena of course wouldn't stop there. She immediately began choosing the matching pairs of paper squares that were needed for one of her amazing healing balls. It would take all cousins present plus one Mama Kathy to fold the elements. It is still an object in the making. Progress report to come.

When five o'clock finally came we screwed up enough courage to check in with the dialysis nurse who was organizing all her equipment in preparation for an exit. We finally had the object of our desires to ourselves. We had a good little visit but it was clear that what he really needed was to just close his eyes and rest. We told him we'd go for dinner and return after the nurses made their shift change. After dinner at a great new cafe, for us, with a menu as long as the day, we returned to the third floor to meet the new night nurse in the land outside of the warm and highly attentive ICU where we had allowed ourselves to feel so secure. The next half hour we'll leave to your imagination. There had been a fibrulation event and the "lift team" was in the room with the day nurse, all moving around quickly and preparing for the change of the guard. Skip's dexterity is not yet up to snuff so we were a bit worried about how he could draw attention to himself if he didn't have a remote with something he could identify and also press in the right spot. The pleasant new night nurse who was still having to figure out what Skip's particulars were, answered our plea for something for him to find and press more easily. She located a snap like glue-on square to tape over the red spot. He tried it out and managed to press it. We lightened up a bit. Chuck and Leah had to depart for Berkeley and Kathy sent Larkin and Elena out to prepare for leaving. Kathy and I lingered on, dispensing ice chips, looking meaningfully at each other and stalling until we saw Skip's eyelids drooping. We announced our departure. We left via the central office, offering our cell phone numbers to the nice nurse at the counter and getting her to tell us where Skip's bells and whistles would show up on their panel of blinking lights.

So begins the night of our dreams. We're sure he'll be fine but we both checked to make sure we had that unit's number ready to call early tomorrow morning. Off to bed.