Turning Point

Since Josh was admitted to the hospital last Sunday night I have not cooked a single meal; every evening has been eat out or take out. So tonight, when I pulled out the cutting board and knife, opened a beer, turned on the kitchen TV, and began to prepare a hearty soup to end this cold, cold day, I sighed, because for the moment? All was right in our little world.

Conversational Snow

"Look! It's snowing!" I said as we walked out of the movie theater this afternoon. 

"Did they say we were going to get snow?" Heidi asked in return. 

"Not the last time I looked," I answered, "but it's obviously not going to stick. Sure is pretty though."

"AND it's not rain!" Heidi noted as we turned to walk home. 

They the People

The other day at school a couple of eighth grade students made a presentation at our Leadership Team meeting. The gist of their proposal was to form a student advisory committee to the principal. Their rationale was that A) many students are intimidated to approach teachers with their concerns, and B) everyone knows that the student council elections are just popularity contests. They wanted the teachers to appoint a diverse group of students who could affect real change.

There was a polite smattering of applause, but I did not join in. When they left, the principal looked around. It seemed like she was all for the idea. I raised my hand. "I think this proposal completely disenfranchises our students. What about democracy? If we think that the SCA elections aren't working, then we should fix them."

There was considerable discussion after that. One suggestion was to institute a bicameral council, half appointed and half elected. I made eye contact with the social studies teacher across the room. "A House of Lords and a House of Commons!" we cried in unison.

In the end, there was not a final decision-- the administrative team put it on their agenda to discuss some more-- but our system of student-elected representatives was safe for another little while.

Who Knew?

It was nearly 8 pm when we left the hospital last night. Heidi glanced at her fit bit. "Wanna take the stairs?" she asked.

"Down?" I shrugged and pushed the elevator button. "What good will that do?"

"It will give us steps," she answered.

The elevator doors slid open. "C'mon," I said, "we can walk on the way down."

We had the elevators to ourselves, and we giggling as we marched in tight circles around the perimeter as we descended five floors.

"Whoa!" I gasped as we staggered out into the lobby. "Note to self: exercising on elevators will make you very dizzy!"

On Location

I spent the day in the hospital with Josh. He is in much better spirits, but there are a few health issues that must be resolved before he can be discharged. As usual in a hospital, he is at the mercy of the hospitalist, the specialist, and their busy schedules.

His parents, uncle, and girl friend are out of town, so part of my responsibility today was to update the group by text message, and for a while this morning I was flooded with questions that I couldn't answer until we saw the doctor. Josh and I were laughing that when he finally came in, we were going to make him do a live chat. 

"I'm going to say, "A caller in Colorado wants to know how to manage colitis with diet." I said. 

"Michelle from Pennsylvania wonders when the chest x-ray is going to happen," Josh continued. 

"A listener named Heidi asks how you know if the steroids are working," I added. 

"If we do that to him," Josh said, "we'll probably never see him again!"

Bank Error in your Favor

The text came around 5 am, just as our radio alarm began broadcasting coverage of President Obama's last SOTU address.

Fever of 106. He's getting some Tylenol and they're going to monitor his temperature closer.

I am no medical professional, but that number seemed high enough to Google immediately. What I read was alarming: hallucinations, seizures, brain damage. Oh no! Josh was in trouble! It seemed like things were going to get worse before they got better.

Heidi and I went into crisis mode immediately. We knew Kate, his girlfriend, had to leave today, so Heidi planned to get into school and make arrangements to get up to the hospital as soon as possible. I would prepare to take tomorrow off. We didn't want him to have to spend much time alone in the hospital when his condition was so serious.

At school, my mind was not on my job as I prepared for the day. Lots of texts were pinging in from all over, concerned with this turn of events. Then, around 8 we got one more message.

I think it was 100.6 instead (sorry I was half asleep). He says he's feeling alright.

I'm still taking off tomorrow, though. Treat and I are going to bring some games to room 518 and play!

Live from VHC

It had been a long day: at 5:30 pm the school day was behind us; Larry was on his way back to Colorado; Kate, Josh's girlfriend had slipped to our house for a shower and a nap; Heidi was roaming the hospital hallways trying to get her steps, and my phone was blowing up as I sat waiting in Josh's room for him to be wheeled up from his procedure. A nurse I had never met before came into the room. "Not back yet?" she asked rhetorically.

"Any idea when he'll be up?" I asked ignoring my phone's buzzing.

She gave me an appraising look. My phone buzzed again. I could tell privacy was on her mind. "And you are...?"

It was a question with a complicated answer. I shrugged. "His aunt," I started, and my phone buzzed. I laughed. "You don't don't have to tell me, " I said, "but people all over the country are waiting for an update." My phone buzzed on cue. "I'd hate to disappoint them."

"He was finished about 15 minutes ago. The hospitalist is reading his chart right now. If I had to guess, I'd say he should be up here by 6."

"Thanks!" I told her, and my thumbs were already going.