Ali and I went back to the ER today. We had bloodwork done, and went home. The nurse called and said the results had declined again, and that she needed to come back.
It's scary when you recognize all the nurses. When you say, "hey Frank, what'dya do with the kids last night?" to the doctor... well, I really didn't say that to the doctor, but you get the point. And the worst thing about getting comfortable in the ER, is that you find out how to get comfortable in the ER.
Tonight Alison wanted to sit up just a bit in her bed. On day one in there, I would have said "bear it." Day two? "Nurse, can you adjust her?" But here on day three (in the last two weeks), I try to adjust the bed. Of course it immediately looks like a mexican pimp-ride, with two small tires making it ride lower in the back.
I finally got the hang of it though, and after 'pumping' her bed back up, I propped her nicely.
She's there tonight. She had a blood transfusion too. I guess she was a quart low. Don't quite know what's wrong yet. I'll let ya'll know.
This is my first night in this house without her.
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