Grandma was moved out of the hospital today and now she is in the rehab again. Even though the last time she was in this rehab (I'd link back if I had a brain cell left to remember when this was, but I don't) I cried every single moment of her incarceration there because I thought it was the most dreadful place in the world, today my heart is singing because grandma is out of the hospital and this means she is healing right on schedule. The rehab seems like a smurf cartoon compared to the hospital.
What originally lifted my tired shriveled cold black heart out of despair (such a tiny little exaggeration) was showing up at the hospital today and finding grandma to be about 90% herself. She was talking and connecting like she hadn't been since the third day of this 12 day hospitalization. I was so happy that when Boops suggested grandma could get a 10% discount on pedicures for the rest of her life I thought it was pretty near the funniest thing I had heard since lil sis texted me mean things about the scumcle last Tuesday in the family surgical waiting room.
Grandma still couldn't hear a damn thing and she is so used to hearing only me that she doesn't try so hard with other people. When the ambulance guy and gal came to transfer grandma they pulled the stretcher right up next to grandma's hospital bed and loosened all of grandma's sheets to lift her in a sort of bedding hammock onto the stretcher. The guy ambulance driver, who was clearly the older and more experienced of the two asked grandma to wrap her arms around herself to prepare for the move/slide/transfer. She didn't hear or understand. She just sat there with a big "Look at all the attention I am getting" smile of wonderment on her face. Then he asked her a little bit louder to GIVE YOURSELF A BIG HUG. Grandma shrugged like "Well, all right, if you say so..." leaned over to the guy gave him a big bear hug and a big wet sloppy kiss on the cheek. We were all dumbfounded there for a second. It was pure grandma.
They finally moved and transferred grandma, I went and found her there at the rehab later, and she was mentally herself again. I floated out of the place on a cloud. I couldn't have been happier about it all.
Then I am relaxing at home around 9 o'clock tonight and the rehab calls. My heart is in my throat as I take the receiver and physically brace myself for some kind of horrible disastrous news. It is the nursing supervisor and she assures me that grandma is fine but there was an incident. (Oh shit! She better not be biting the nurses again! I warned them, I actually did!) It seems that grandma, after I had left her alone in her wheelchair in her room, decided it was time to get out of the wheelchair and was found sometime later sitting calmly on the floor. Grandma was not hurt. They just called me because that is policy and they asked me not to leave her alone in her wheelchair in her room again. I said I would not leave grandma alone in her room again. And when I hung up the phone I cried exactly two tears of relief before the excitement began to build. Do you know what this means? It means that my spirited little grandma, my spunky little (so what if the nurses used the term combative) 96 year old grandma will not be held down. She is going to fight her way back to independence and back onto her feet and hopefully back into the OFH for a stretch of good health and some happier times. I'm pretty sure grandma is going to be just fine.