Come Wednesday...

It looks like Wednesday is the day that we'll be getting out of here, simply because everything takes that long.

One of the surgical residents came up because I had asked about The Boy's JP drain (Jackson-Pratt drain; it's a bulb on a tube that is inserted to help fluid drain away) because the area around it was looking red and possibly infected. They are taking the drain out today. I asked him, straight out, when The Boy would get to leave and what they are looking for before talking about discharge. He said that the tubes and lines have to be out (well of course, goofy) and that they had scheduled a renal ultrasound for Tuesday because they always check on it a week after surgery.

Would have been nice to tell us, straight out, that we'd be here for a week and then some, instead of just having us sit here wondering.

Last time the wait was also unbearable, because they wanted to get pathology back on the tumor before he could be discharged, because he was also to have his first chemotherapy treatment inpatient. But I felt like they were more up front with us. They said that The Boy looked good, and The Boy was eating normally at that point, at least, and it was just a matter of hanging out with him in the hospital during the day. He'd just get his Norvasc twice a day and get vitals done from time to time, and still have his diapers weighed.

Was it because The Boy doesn't normally receive care here, or is this how everyone gets treated? It seems like every time we turn around, there's something that they just don't bother to tell us.

Musical Daddy will go to work on Monday; I'll go to work on Tuesday. Then, assuming that Wednesday is actually when we'll be out of here, we'll both be here on Wednesday.