Run Over By a Car

Mark has gone home to spend time with the children.  Jackie asked that I stay with her for the night, so I am prepared to make the most of these lovely chairs.  One has been replaced with a high backed chair that has some sort of spring in it.  Not bad.  Not good.  I am glad that I am allowed to stay with her at all.
She has been sleeping peacefully for some time now.  Here are the first three things that I remember her saying.  1. "Mom, may I please have a foot massage?"  2. "I think I have been run over by a car! You can put that on my Facebook."    3. "I woke up without a tube in my mouth!"
Her nurse just came in and told me that once we are past the first 4 or 5 hours post-op that we can all relax quite a bit. We have past that. I sit here and watch her and listen to her breathing so peacefully and all on her own.  I know that she has been cut open and is going to be very sore, but Tuesday night was so much worse.  The noise of the ventilator and all of the doctors and respiratory therapists coming in and out.  There was so much more stress and concern.  Wednesday it was just enjoyable to hang out together - no worries and no responsibilities.  Today has been calm and hearing such a good surgical report seems to have tricked my mind into thinking it is all over.  I want to be able to take her home and get back to normal.  I need to work on this patience thing... obviously since I keep having opportunities presented to me. Besides, right now this is our normal and quite frankly, it just isn't too bad.  All of the other ICU patients near us are so much worse off than we are.  We can hear enough and see so much more action going on in their rooms.  This keeps everything in perspective and I am so grateful that we have such good health.  Jackie agrees. During her first night here alone the man across the hall was confused and yelling, "Murder! Murder!"  Bless his heart... Bless her heart... that was a long night.
Sometimes I think I am too nostalgic, sometimes not enough.  If I could go back and capture a moment in life what would it be?  I usually long for those weekend mornings when we would sleep a little longer and end up with six little children climbing into bed with us - cuddly at first, and then so wiggly that Mark would be forced to get up and get away.  I would try to hold on to the memory, knowing (but not comprehending) that they would soon not all fit in the bed and (horror) eventually begin to leave home.  Their wiggles could always hold out longer than my sentimentality and soon I was begging to have them let me out.  They would cheer in triumph over their conquest of our bed and then proceed to do whatever children do to blankets, sheets and pillows until our room would match theirs.  They could then run, play, climb, fight, jump, --all day ---with chaos in their wake.  Hmmm, maybe my nostalgia is cured; but I did really, really love those cuddly times.  Perhaps that is what I am trying to capture as I sit here watching Jackie.  I want her to be young enough to hold her on my lap and try to make her pain go away with kisses.
In reality I wouldn't go back.  I loved and adored my children when they were little.  I love and adore them even more as they grow, probably because I know them better.  This is one of the reasons I like to think of life as a journey.  We do see and experience wonderful things, but we don't stop and stay because the road ahead is filled with new adventure.  Adventures like a night in a chair in ICU...