"DO NOT take BLOOD out without permission of the NURSE PRACTICIONER"

There's a sign you don't see everywhere. Like I said, hospitals are weird places.

It's around 6:00 PM. The dynamic has completely shifted. We've transitioned from the high anxiety of waiting to hear the results of surgery to a waiting game. Slow, step-by-step recovery, starting a couple hours ago with removal of the breathing tube. As stressful as it's been, the first stage was the easy part in ways. Now the hard work starts. We have a lot of support, and Ronnie is very determined, so things should go well. Recovery from this kind of thing just isn't quick or easy though, even though the outcome should be excellent.

And it's also a waiting game because Ronnie's nurse, while very sweet, is one of those people who says "I'll be with you in a few seconds" when she really means "I'll be with you in 15 minutes or so." The lack of precision makes it difficult for me to know where to be and when.

I think what's going to be frustrating for me is that I need to be helpful at the same time as I am for the most part pretty helpless to really do much of anything. I can't relieve any kind of pain or discomfort; I can only try to distract and rehab and just generally take care. And try to remember to take care of myself.

I've now spent the last 3 hours in the Intensive Care Unit, where she'll be for the next 12-18 hours. There's a very impressive array of stuff attached to her and it seems as if the task is to keep her awake long enough to let her go to sleep. Or maybe they don't let her sleep. Who knows? I'm going to need to sleep at some point. I have to be up at 6 to make sure I catch the doctors on their rounds.

I'll probably check in one more time tonight. My family was around earlier, and my sister will be stopping by again shortly, but soon I'll be alone again, which I'm ready for. This has been a pretty overwhelming day.