Yesterday, I asked my parents to bring me a b.good burger and a vanilla milkshake for lunch. I made the assumption they would be down at 1:00, it may have been wishful thinking since I was napping in bed and it was past 12:30. I roused myself out of a deep slumber, and felt exhaustion in my body. The covers were way too heavy. It really takes effort to roll to the side of the bed and sit up, but I needed to; I was expecting visitors. As I started to make these movements, the nurse knocked at the door, opened it and said that my parents already dropped off the milkshake in the fridge, and the b.good was on the table next to me. Dag-nab-it, I was late. I struggled to collect myself, and realized that I needed to make it through this day. I wasn’t as sore yesterday as I was the day prior, so I can’t be that sore today, right? Wrong. Still sore, but I need to move slowly to build muscle and rid my body of soreness. Sunday would prove to be another adventure.
We ate lunch, or rather, my parents watched me pick at the burger, making it about 1/3 of the way though the patty. I also used the leftover chocolate shake as Carnation instant liquid, and added two packages to make it 350 calories of tasty-goodness. Then it was time to change the wound-dressing for the big adventure to the lobby and fresh air!
They disconnected me from ALL the tubes and wires and set me free for a bit! I climbed aboard the wheelchair, and got to experience going fast, i.e. normal walking pace, again. Then, a trip down the elevator where I really wondered whether I would feel a wave of vertigo, and then over a series of uneven carpets that jostled me even when they must have seemed minor to everyone else. Logan, I don’t look forward to the car-rides!
We made it outside!
Since it was so cold, that lasted about 5 minutes and we retreated to the lobby where they had a piano. I’ve said that I’ve been training all my life for this event. Even those trombone lessons and the 1 year of piano lessons in 5th grade came in handy yesterday. Couple that with recent training on the tenor banjo, and hearing my grandfather break out some of his old piano jive abilities at the age of 89 last summer and I was motivated to sit at the piano. I love tinkling the keys, but I am always afraid of getting shooshed away, or that people will hate the incessant wrong note press at the end of a short diddy. I call it “improvised jazz” – Musicians, I’m sorry I’ll find a better joke next time.
So, I plucked away at the first verses of The Entertainer, The Pink Panther, and the both dreaded and loved Send In The Clowns. It was my recital song that was scheduled for my birthday and I didn’t want to go, so I quit piano lessons before having to ever perform. For a little while, I forgot where I was and I just concentrated on those little ivory keys. I accomplished something yesterday. People walking in and out of the hospital got to hear some live music.
For a second, I forgot that I had a feeding tube still in my nose. I also forgot time had passed. I was ready to sit there for as long as possible and play through some more notes, do some power chord structures, or even try some hearty beats that I semi-learned from Gramp. Then, my gut busted. Sort of literally. The drain tube exit has been a little finicky the last few days, and it’s been dressed up often. It finally started leaking and I could feel it. We semi-rushed back to the room – using the hand sanitizers along the way – to get mended up. Sunday’s adventure was a great accomplishment.
Derek’s dad took some video of the Sunday’s big adventure which I am working on editing together into a little mini movie. Stay tuned! – Logan