Life of Wry

We decided that I would stay on in Palos Verdes and Peter would drive our car back to Davis. Last night, we went to LAX to get me a rental car.

This would be Peter’s first-ever solo road trip. Jim and I wanted him to have the experience of managing a trans-California trip (is it still “trans” when one travels from south to north?). There are issues of navigation, traffic and rush hour, gas management, alertness. He felt more than ready.

He also wanted to get an early start… because he wanted to make a tee time in the afternoon.

The life.

We got up around 4:00. He followed me down to the Malaga Cove Plaza where I could access an ATM…. gave him some money… and off he went.

He ended up with a few navigational challenges, but arrived in Davis before noon with a successful solo road trip under his belt.

Yay P.

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As for me, today was going to be a lot of this:

The hospital zone.

Ventilator; IVs for fluids, antibiotics, sedation; pick lines; Foley catheters. Got refamiliar with the monitors, ICU terminology, the color coding of hospital coats (navy for nurses, green for respiratory, brown for phlebotomists), the location of the gajillions of hand sanitizers. There’s a rhythm to the whole affair, and pretty soon you’re right in there with the best of them: you walk into the room after lunch, give a quick glance at the monitors, read the board for any updates, and inquire about her most recent muca-mist procedure (did anything come up?). You know the lead nurse, the nurse nurse, the nurse’s assistant. You know the guy who delivers meals, the PT who’s on for the day. You know when the doctor is likely to make her/his rounds and the tests she/he is likely to report on.

It’s all about getting mom better and home.