Brent is doing better--although he still can't sleep for long, even with the meds the doctors have prescribed. He tore the left quadricep muscle off of the top of the patella--and shredded some of the side ligaments as well. Apparently he is one of about three every year that the doctor repairs . . . kind of a celebrity in orthopaedic surgery circles. It will be a few months before he is able to return to work.
It is the vacation of a lifetime--the opportunity to dash from Florida to DC and wait while the doctors reattach muscle and ligament and bone together--and then to spend three (to four) weeks in a nice hotel room waiting until Brent can be released to fly home. Apparently the danger of blood clots is too great before that time.
I just finished exercising in the hotel gym and have an appointment at 1pm for a therapeutic massage to assuage the damage of sleeping in a hotel bed while waking up at intervals to help Brent get back into bed. I am the lucky one, though. The meds give Brent nightmares--continually weird ones--while my bad dreams are always of him and the pain he's in. I take continuity any time--even for bad dreams. At least I always know where I am when I wake up.
The good part? I get to spend time with Brent and I get to take care of him. I could not ask for a more pleasant proximity.
