When we arrived home there was a sign welcoming us along with a sparkling clean house. That is just one of the gazillion things that I love about my family - when I am gone things do not fall apart. They rise to the occasion!
(Elsa even took charge of making sure my flower baskets were watered.)
The girls were thrilled to have their little sister home again. They hadn't seen Elisabeth in the hospital, so there were a lot of stored up hugs and kisses.
I absolutely adore the picture below...especially how Lorelai is taking her first peek at Elisabeth's 'new' back.
And if you really want your heart to melt, look at these pictures:
When Lorelai went over to whisper hello, Elisabeth gently lifted her hand and placed it on Lorelai's face. It was as if she were trying to say, "Why, there you are, sissy! I have missed you!."
But then...things took a turn for the worse...
Elisabeth began thrashing and her hair was soaked in sweat. I kept thinking, "she's in pain, she's in pain". I religiously gave her the prescribed dose of oxycodone every four hours in hopes of bringing her relief, but it didn't make a difference. Throughout the afternoon and into the night she thrashed. At 3 in the morning I called the hospital and talked to a nurse who promised she would pass the message on to the doctor when he arrived. Come morning I waited and waited for a call, finally deciding at 9 am to call back. The physician instructed me to increase her dose by 1/3.
I did. And nothing improved.
Elisabeth had been awake 24 hours and I was getting increasingly concerned. So I reached out to the local pediatrician who suggested giving her Benadryl in hopes that it would at least help her fall asleep.
Nope. Didn't work.
I called back to the hospital and at this point was a bit teary (I, too, had been awake well over 24 hours). "What do I do?" I asked. "She needs rest, her body needs rest."
The doctor told me to bring her back so that they could better manage her pain and evaluate the situation first hand. I scooped her up to put her in the car and discovered that the back of her shirt was soaked in blood. So we re-routed to the local emergency room. When I walked in they asked what was wrong and with a shaky voice I said, "She's falling apart."
The ER was able to bandage up her bloody incision and then I drove as fast as I could back to Spokane where they were awaiting our arrival.
I was so glad to be back in the safety of that hospital room.
Elisabeth was a mess. Her back was bleeding, her stats were all abnormal, she was sweating and thrashing and still unable to sleep.
They gave her a medication to sedate her, but even so, the nurse and I stood at her bedside until the wee hours of the morning restraining her so that she didn't hurt herself. Already, her body was getting bruised from the thrashing.
At 3 am I began feeling dizzy - it had been nearly two days since I had slept - so the nurses took over and I went to get a few hours of sleep. When I woke I was informed that she kept thrashing until 5 am. Even with medication to sedate her, she had been unable to relax until finally her body gave in to fatigue. She, too, had been awake for close to two days.
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