Stitched the morning before surgery. Anxiety reflected in the clash of patterns.
And another round of surgical gown stitching happened. For luck and love.
Once we were at the hospital, Jude's gifts of blue carried me through. All went as well as it could.
Unfortunately, on K's first morning home, I went outside to fetch the newspaper and locked myself out. Fortunately, Moon's window upstairs was open, he was only half asleep, and heard me calling.
Time became charted and managed. Nighttime prep to make things easier. Sleep in one to three hour pieces brought back memories of having a newborn again. Without the joy. Myriad systems were created. Some more useful than others.
Nursing is not my calling. More of a Nurse Ratchet sort (There are not enough swear words to say how much I hate putting compression socks on another person.). While I may lack some bedside manner... all of the meds, exercises, walking laps that are supposed to happen, do happen on my watch.
There was an audiobook being listened to in the first week. There were seven attempts to hear the last thirty minutes of it, but I kept falling asleep. I finally gave up and assumed that they all lived happily ever after.
Painted for the first time in I don't know when.
Quilting didn't happen, but there has been lots of knitting. Because it can be picked up for a few stitches without much thought and it can be done with closed eyes.
Three days ago, I finally picked up a needle again.
And then again. K had a great checkup today, walking without support a little bit, and last night there were five hours of sleep IN A ROW. Joy.
