Folks, I'm sorry it's taken this long for me to update about Bob's health. Monday was a horrible day; I was frightened, exhausted and full of the irrational thought that fear and exhaustion bring. I can't even begin to speak to Bob's own fear, pain and exhaustion.
But things are better. Physically, there's still a lot left to be desired, but emotionally and spiritually I think we're steadier.
Oh, hell, where to start?
As of now (at least I think it's "as of now," but I've learned how quickly things can change in hospital, both bureaucratically and medically): Bob's been moved back out of ICU, into a rather old but definitely serviceable medical wing.
No, wait, go back a little further.
We made it through the awful night; in fact, Bob called me again Tuesday morning, sounding almost human. He still hadn't had any sleep, but the interventional radiology people wanted nothing to do with him and the gastoenterologist was going to be calling the shots. Thsi was good. He got more blood, was back off all liquids - nothing by mouth, so he had to go off a number of his meds, since some of them can't be used intravenously - and that afternoon he was strong enough to walk around the ICU with me (meaning down one hall and back to the bed).
By the end of the day, I'd written three stories in time for my deadline (done at the hospital; thank you modern mobile offices and hospital business center) and headed back to Bob's room. Things had changed again, of course; while I wrote, he bled more, so he and the doc spoke again, and Bob was put on complete bed rest. No more walks. And the doctor decided on the ultimate simple tactic: "don't worry about going anywhere. You're going to be here for as long as it takes for you to rest yourself well." Sounds old-fashioned, but it meant the doctor was no longer focusing on trying invasive shit to get Bob out of the building as fast as possible. He was focusing on Bob's health.
That helped, and simply saying "that helped" doesn't begin to do it justice.
Spiritually and emotionally, Tuesday was an intense day for both of us, and for Andy. There were a lot of tears, and a lot of communication for Bob and me (Andy's time with him happened today.) It wasn't just the doctor's wise strategic move, either. Bob's head changed in a good way. That's his story to tell if he wants to, not mine, but it was a good thing.
And today, after I left, and before Andy went to visit, the doctor arrived and said that if he could go a full day without bleeding, they might put him back on clear liquids (nothing more than water or broth); if he went another day beyond that without bleeding, they'd begin to think about the possibility of getting him ready to go home.
I'm taking that under consideration, but nothing more. After Monday, after what he went through and after what we talked about, I'm willing to wait as long as it takes. I'm deathly lonely without him, but I do not want him to come home one second before the proper time.
I hope that tomorrow brings more and better news, and I will try to report promptly.
Finally, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you for all your comments and support and worry and love. I didn't respond to a great many of the messages you all left Monday night, because I simply couldn't bring myself to engage with anyone, (and that's unusual, says the woman who obsessively answers all posts under normal circumstances) but every comment was read and treasured. I have tried to keep Bob abreast of all the people who are rooting for him.