Home

I got home on Tuesday afternoon. After a long, slow-speed ambulance ride (no alarms) during which the guy riding in back with me was coughing and sniffeling while I tried to dive under my pillow to avoid getting whatever he had (I was on the verge of suggesting that he wear a mask for such situations, i.e transporting people with chronic conditions, but I wussed out.) I finally made it home. Now, I can tell you that I'm very frequently happy to be home. Probably even on a daily basis. But this was different. It was delicious. The smell of home when I got inside was like a huge hug. It smelled human rather than sterile.

I had pushed my limits on Tuesday at the hospital by doing some walking for the Physical Therapist AND taking a shower, so I went straight to my own bed while they were building my special sand/wind/air-blowing bed in the living room. I guess it literally is a $30-$50k bed. I'll call it the money bed.

Too bad I won't get a chance to show it off on MTV Cribs. I could say, "This is where the healing happens." It will probably be a miracle if C doesn't break it. Then we'll have to get a second mortgage so we can buy an overpriced air mattress we soon won't need.



When C got home from school, it was clear that she really had missed me and was happy to have me home. That felt really good. For a toddler, she is doing a pretty good job of understanding some of this and being gentle with me. We've explained the whole boo-boo/hospital stay thing to her as best as we can and luckily she hasn't body-slammed me yet. She spends a lot of time bringing things over to me and piling them up on the money bed. So at any given time I could have 5 stuffed animals, 4 books, several legos, and a few Mrs. Potato Head accessories piled on top of me. I even get Cheerios hand-fed to me sometimes. I never had access to such luxuries in the hospital. It's great.