The Hospital

It's been quite a week.  Rich had surgery for sleep apnea on Monday, and is nowhere near recovered.  They took out his tonsils, adenoids, uvula, and trimmed up his soft palate.  Gross.  
The doctor said the pain wouldn't get ANY better for 10 days, and apparently he wasn't joking.  From what Rich tells me, it's a horribly sharp pain every time he swallows.  Which means he isn't eating anything solid, and isn't really sleeping.  Poor guy.

If you ever need to move through a hospital quickly, by the way, don't bring a baby.  EVERY nurse will stop you to chat.  We left for the hospital at 6 am, and stayed until almost 7.  Rebecca made at least a hundred friends in between.  She was the life of the surgical waiting room.  And a real trooper too, making hardly a whimper even though her naps were all thrown off.  She had a minute or so crying spell when we got home, which may have been because dad didn't come with us, but then she tangled my hair in her hands, cuddled up, and fell right to sleep.

Rich's doctor said he'd be released at 8 am, so Tuesday morning I flopped Rebecca into the car seat and took off, reaching the hospital before 7.  I don't think I made it to his room before 7:15, though, since, again, every nurse I passed had to stop and talk to Rebecca and lament that they didn't have time to hold her (not asking how I'd feel about it).  I kept the baby wipes within quick reach, prepared to wipe her down as soon as they were out of sight.  I still can't believe strangers, especially strangers changing bedpans, touch other people's babies.  At least we were out of there somewhere around nine.

Wednesday I took Rebecca to the grocery store, where, for the first time, I used the grocery cart seat for her without Rich being around.  (Having a second parent seems to keep people back a little more.)  Before I've used the jeep carrier or kept her in her car seat or stroller.  Once again, it took twice as long to get that I needed done.  More random people wanting to touch her--kiss her hand, even!  More baby wipes.   And honestly, if I'm paranoid enough to use one of the seat covers because of random cart germs, what makes you think your random germs are less scary than random cart germs?  Seriously.

And the unexpected result of all of this attention?  Becca now expects EVERYONE to pay attention to her, and will stare down anyone who doesn't.  I hope it doesn't last too long.