A Patch of Blue

I am lounging in my robe though it is 10 AM on Tuesday morning. I am gazing out at a mostly cold, gray sky with a small bright patch of blue peeking out and smiling on me. That picture perfectly captures how I feel today.

We all needed to sleep in a bit this morning. We arrived home at nearly midnight last night. Mercedes, the kitty, needed lots of attention after being alone for about 19 hours yesterday. And we needed to talk; to review the day with all the drama and tension. We were exhausted, but we needed to embrace all the emotion one more time.

We finally got into the ICU to see a rather groggy Kelly about 9:30 last night. Eric's face just lit up as he playfully touseled her hair. He was rewarded with a weak little smile, barely showing Kelly's dimples. For all of us, it was as bright as the biggest grin on a jack-o-lantern. Despite the tubes and monitors and nearly constant nursing attention, she looked fantastic!

As those of you who know her might expect, Kelly wanted a complete accounting of our day, including conversations, messages and especially our meetings with her doctors. Oh, she wasn't so alert that she could converse much; but she has a self designed sign/body language that manages to ask questions and express opinions without using many words at all. We gave her a blow by blow that we will surely have to repeat again today as the drugs will keep her from retaining any of it. That's okay, we are happy to repeat ourselves.

Eric took the early shift today, heading for the hospital about 9. He called from the ICU to say that Kelly is in good spirits and doing well. She claims she didn't get much sleep last night. Her nurse feels that she had a good night.

There were about a dozen cards for Kelly in the mail this morning. Eric said she was opening them already. Knowing that so many people care enough to send cards always makes Kelly smile. Thanks to you, she has a bright patch of blue in her day, too.

The nurses told Eric the plan is to get Kelly out of bed about noon today. And they will see if she can eat anything. She was greedily sucking on ice chips last night and had to be cautioned to slow down lest she make herself nauseous. Getting up will be a difficult thing for Kel. Her surgeon told us that they took all the belly fat they could get, as well as a good chunk of skin. Therefore, Kelly's abdomen will be very, very tight (and flat, a nice side benefit). She won't be able to stand up straight for a couple of weeks as the skin gradually stretches and releases enough to allow more mobility. If all goes well, Kelly may be moved to a private room later today.

Tom and I will go to the hospital about lunch time so that Eric can come home for a bit. His intention is to stay overnight, at Kelly's request, and he will need the break during the afternoon and early evening. We will continue to visit in shifts so that everyone has the opportunity to stay well rested. There is talk of releasing Kelly on Friday if everything indicates she is ready then. For now, we are happy to let the professionals tend to all of Kelly's needs.

The next milestone we face is when Dr. Caterson examines the new breast tissue for signs of necrosis or failure of the tissue to live. Even though they have checked the pulse of the newly attached blood vessels every half hour throughout the night, Dr. Caterson's opinion is the one that matters most. Dr. C's rate of success is higher than the national standard, so we are very hopeful that there will be no disappointments or setbacks. We will post updates frequently so that you can follow right along.

Keep those cards and prayers coming!