Sunday, June 18
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Monday, June 19
Jnani said she would arrange for a friend of hers to give both
Don and me a massage. She's arranged it for Tuesday evening.
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Tuesday, June 20
Jnani called to say that there had been some confusion in the
signals between her and her massage therapist friend. Later
that evening, the friend called to say that she was still in
San Francisco, and that traffic was heavy headed south. It
was about 7:00 PM when she called. I told her it seemed unlikely
she could get to Stanford Hospital before the end of visiting
hours at 8:00 PM. She agreed and said she would try again tomorrow.
This evening, as we are trying to go to sleep, Don keeps pulling his
mask off. I get impatient with him and at one point force his arms
and hands away from his mask. I'm so abrupt that he yells "Ow!"
I'm ashamed of myself for forcing my will on him. If he wants to
take his mask off in the night, so be it. Perhaps he'll sleep better
that way.
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Wednesday, June 21
Don's body wisdom proves superior to my worrisome reasoning
once again. After a night of sleeping with the mask off most of
the time, he wakes with new energy and alertness.
Jnani's massage friend calls later that day to say she isn't coming.
We never do get the promised massages.
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Thursday, June 22
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Friday, June 23
They take Don completely off oxygen. He does just fine.
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Saturday, June 24
Brad and Tonya come for a visit. I am very glad to see them.
That night, Don asks for the bedpan. I bring him the commode instead,
and before I realize the mistake I've made, we have a real mess on our
hands. I call for help. It takes ten minutes to show up, and is
disorganized and slow when it does. This is the first time I'm
disappointed with the care Don has received at Stanford, but it makes
quite an impression.
It is also the first time cleaning up after one of these accidents
upsets me. I guess I was thinking that Don was doing so well, and this
indicates he is still a long way from returning to a normal life.
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