Warning: If you are allergic to whining or have already heard enough from your own children today, you may want to skip this post.
It is Thursday night at 8pm and it was my intention to have Kari come up for a photojournalistic tour of my room complete with, of course, pictures. However, I feel like crap. I figure after 3 days of fairly positive blogging, I have earned the right to post one serious, pathetic, whiney entry.
Physically I feel worse than I have since I arrived at the hospital. The bruise around my arm incision grows larger by the day and the swelling has moved to my wrist. I have been on several pain killers today that have kept the pain tolerable but I think they are affecting my stomach as I now feel nauseas. Mid morning I began to cough and now I am running a fever.
Apparently Salinda has still not made a decision. She texted me once tonight to tell me that she had not heard back from the county and was asking why we wouldn't sign for them to get married. I indicated to her that there are many reasons but that my arms both hurt so I didn't want to text. I asked her to call me at 6:30pm and, of course, I've heard nothing.
I am wary to send texts because I am not sure she is the only one who reads them.
Bart and I are limited as to what we can do. I have already explained to the county worker in the county where they reside that it is frustrating that the six of us (Salinda, BF, BF's parents, and Bart and I) made a decision that we felt was best and it is now being challenged. It would be a very easy fix, temporarily, to simply give in to what appears to be the least difficult option short term. However, permanent legal decisions such as transfer of custody and marriage should be based on something other than the current emotional pleas of a stressed out 17 year old. Our position is to not stop her from any decisions she might make while standing firm and not being forced to make decisions as her parents we do not feel are best.
I feel much more stable emotionally about the Salinda situation now that we have a clear strategy as to how to handle it. However, approaching my fourth full day in the hosoital tomorrow feeling much worse than I did when I came in is rather daunting. Apparently the medication I've been given is only given one time a day. The magic number for my release is 2.0 or above. The routine is that they give me one pill at 6pm and draw blood at 6am the following morning. After one dose my level was at 1.2. I took my second dose tonight and tomorrow they'll test the blood again. I'm not thinking it is going ot be at 2.0 by tomorrow morning.
One of the greatest benefits, or possibly the only benefit, of the last few days is an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my husband and my friends. Bart is a wonderful caregiver, amazingly patient, kind and fun to be around. He is the only person I will let help me shower (I do have compassion for the rest of the world and he has already seen me naked) and he is so gentle and patient, much more careful with me than I am with myself. On top of all of the care that he has given me, he is doing a great job of reassuring the kids and taking care of them.
I have had several friends stop by and I am now going to force Kari to write nice things about herself. She has been here many times and remains a loyal and caring friend and obeys my orders to not get too mushy most of the time. When this is all over I'll type more about this myself.
So tomorrow when I am feeling a little better or at least rested, we'll deliver the promised photo tour of my room including tie dyed roses, and evidence that the cafeteria is trying to poison me. Stay tuned and thanks for your prayers.