The Lady at the End of the Hall

This is a Catholic hospital and between 8:30 and 9:00 am each morning they read the Lord's Prayer over the loud speaker.  Someone different reads each day so far and they get to choose between the various versions available, I guess.  We've had the King James version and the newer English version (whose formal name I've forgotten, though I did once own a copy of it).  I was born in a Catholic hospital and I can remember being there as a kid for various reasons and the crosses and other iconography everywhere, including in the patient rooms.

Not so much here.  But Thursday, at the end of the hallway and tucked into a corner that is invisible until you get right up to it, I found a 5-foot tall, painted wooden statue of a sainted lady.  She has a crown of flowers, and has red flowers at her feet; she holds a cross and a ribbon in her hand.  But she is not named.  Not Mary, I think, but a similarly sweet and lovely face.  I'm happy to see her each time, now, that we walk that route.  She has a scale next to her, so you can also weigh yourself during the visit.  There aren't a lot of visually interesting things on the unit, so they should give her more pride of place, I think.

A bit ago, a nurse came by to give Ed a shot.  When I asked what it was, she said that it was the same thing he's received every morning and that it's to prevent blood clots.  Except he'd never had such a shot before, and he's up and walking around to prevent blood clots.  This is the first medication confusion I've seen.  She was clearly willing not to give it if I said so, and she went away to make sure that it wasn't contraindicated with the Toradol (which I thought it might be).  But she came back without the shot and said she'd talk to the doctor about it.  These are the moments I really don't like, I must say.  I really ought not to be making medication decisions.  But, I suppose I'm not if the medications are important enough at any given moment.  There's clearly time for this to be assessed.

Ed's back from a second walk this morning to visit the lady and weigh himself: a pound over his admission weight.  Which is a pound over his standard weight.  Good job of weight maintenance, Ed.  Not much eating this morning.  He reports that it is amazing how much chewing and swallowing is required for applesauce, whereas graham crackers just dissolve in your mouth.  I myself, in empathy perhaps, found an entire apple beyond my scope this morning: half for breakfast, the other half of this overly textured item for lunch.

It's really quiet today; no scheduled surgical admissions, I guess, and there are more empty rooms than previously.  And the helicopter has been quiet since last night around 7 pm.  The helicopter, information for those of you far away, mostly serves patients on the San Juan Islands.
10 am, Saturday.