Monday report

Healing is progressing very well. Robin is now at Renee’s apartment. She still has the drains, but they will probably be removed on Thursday when she goes to her doctor appointments. She’s been out walking, enjoying the wonderful January in New York weather. I’ve been going from the west side to the east side with some foraging in between: today was Dean & Delucca for a special yogurt and a walnut bread. It’s amazing, there are two places in NYC to get walnut bread.

The building where I am staying has elevator men, giving me something new to think about as I come and go. I recall stories about elevator men, the most recent being about the man who lived alone and had no family who, on Christmas day, worked on the sympathies of all the building occupants and wound up with several Christmas dinners, lots of drinks, presents and toys for his fantasy children, most of which he gave to one of the neighbors where he lived. I don’t know what happens here, where there is a profusion of elevator and doormen, but it’s fun to think about.

Steve and Renee will both leave on Wednesday and I will move to the east side for the remainder of our stay. I don’t expect Robin will need much help, but I won’t leave her alone. She is anticipating problems getting back to Pittsburgh because she has so much stuff. I think it will be all right. We can get help and this old lady is still fairly strong, at least enough to briefly lift even heavy bags.

Thanks again for all the good wishes. They make us feel much loved.

Another good report

Yesterday may have been Robin’s last day in the hospital. She was supposed to be up and walking Friday, the day after surgery. They sat her up in the chair and she passed out, leaving her worried all day she wouldn’t recover as quickly as she had hoped. She was walking when I arrived and continued walking or sitting in the chair all day. We are hoping today will be even better and we can take her to Renee’s apartment where she will recuperate for the next two weeks.

I’m writing this in bed in my friend’s apartment and I’m not online. She has a computer but doesn’t know much about it. I can only get online by taking the USB cord from her machine and plugging it into mine. I’ll do it later. Last evening we went to a concert at the Metropolitan Museum—the Pacifica Quartet, two violins, one viola, one cello. It was lovely, but my tinnitus gets stimulated by the violins and it makes me unhappy. These days I prefer piano music. It doesn’t seem to have the same effect.

The hospital has been very good. Robin and Steve both feel she is getting excellent care. She was in a four bed intensive care unit with constant nursing surveillance until afternoon when they moved her to a regular double room across from the nursing station.

On the day of the surgery, and for many days before, I felt like I had a lump in my chest. As the surgery progressed and we received reports from the operating room, the lump began to lessen. When I saw her again that evening most of it went away. Today I am completely relieved. I know there is much hard work ahead of us, but it’s all doable. Knowing Robin I’m sure she will recover quickly. Unlike her mother she loves exercise and can’t wait to start running again.

You can tell I am relieved by this next story about one of my pet peeves. Going to the hospital I take the subway then transfer to a bus. There is a new bus option: select buses, supposedly faster because of a dedicated bus only lane and they don’t make every stop. Also, you pay before boarding and don’t even show the receipt unless you are asked to do so by an inspector. The fine for noncompliance is $150. At each bus stop there are two machines for use with a transit card and one for cash. The express buses are not new. The city always had a system of limited and local buses. They seem to have extended it to more routes, but only the fare purchase system is new. As usual, I am the skeptic. At least on 34th st. I certainly don’t see the efficacy. The bus only lane is at the curb and there is always a parked truck or taxi blocking the bus. When people get on and try to pay they are directed off the bus and told to use the machines. Mostly they will have to wait for the next bus. I haven’t encountered any inspectors and I have no idea how much money the city is losing. But the thing that gets me most is that you must still carry lots of quarters if you don’t have a transit card: neither these fare boxes nor the ones on the regular buses will accept dollar bills for a fare now at $2.25. I’ve never understood this dedication to quarters, nine of them now.

So far everything good

Surgery is finished. Reconstruction is finished. Tonight is critical: if nothing happens to restrict blood flow to the reconstruction it should all be easy, or at least less worrisome. Amazing the things they can do these days.  Thank you again for all of your prayers and good wishes.

I am staying in New York with a friend of some thirty years. She is the mother of one of Robin’s college roommates. The girls spent a summer backpacking through Europe and Phyllis and I became friends. Over the years we’ve spent a lot of time taking photographs together. Phyllis is still working at it while I have downgraded to snapshots. But we both enjoy wandering around New York and visiting museums. Phyllis lives in a huge apartment in one of those great old art deco buildings on the upper West Side. I’m enjoying the space and the luxury of it all when I’m not at the hospital.

Thank you for all of your good wishes

I’m sitting in the hospital waiting room. Steve said I shouldn’t come until 10:30, when the doctor anticipated the first part would be finished. But I couldn’t sleep and I’ve actually lost my appetite. Never happens to me.
Robin wrote about what she is doing. You can find it here.