The Thing

Earlier today after a peaceful night's rest in her new room (including hot blankets) Mom's alertness startled us.  Among the unexpected, yet perceptive, remarks were these:  "Jim, I just don't know what to do;"  "This really bothers me;" "It's going to be okay;" "We're on the verge of new things,"  and when dad asked, "How's my favorite wife?"  she answered, "Doing Great!"

When Diane asked what mountain she could see out the east window, after a hint, Mom matter-of-factly replied, "Mount Olympus."

But my favorite part of the day was when she looked over at Dad and said, "Hi, Love."  

Mom also had a full (seated) shower and got her hair shampooed for the 1st time in 2+ weeks. And then the therapists strapped her to a special table and got her standing up on her feet (completely weight-bearing).  Mom said it felt really good, and though this wore her out, it was well worth it.

She is obviously more aware of her surroundings, but perplexed (and bothered) about just what is going on.

But here's the exciting news.  About 5:30 p.m., Mom had a "thing" installed in her heart . . . at least that's what the nurse called it!  We think it was highly appropriate that she referred to it as a "thing" because Mom uses that word frequently, often leaving us to wonder exactly what she means.  The "thing" is technically a helex septal occluder, an umbrella shaped device which clamps off the hole in the septum from both sides.  (By the way, the doctor said the opening was about half an inch (13 mm) at it's widest part.)

As I type this, we are crowded in Mom's recovery room down in the cath lab where the procedure took place.  It's kind of like seeing how many people you can cram in a phone booth.  I think this hospital will be really relieved when the Whitehead family is discharged.  (But not nearly so relieved as we will be!!!)