No news is good news? Maybe.

Not much to report on Mom's first day back at the hospital. Her fever is gone, but the edema in her legs is trying to stage a comeback. She's really exhausted but managed to take a short walk down the hall. When she got back into bed she looked like she'd run a marathon. She was in good spirits most of the day, and laughed at my jokes, which brings into question her sense of humor. I was adjusting her pillows and said, "Are you comfortable?" And she said, "Yeah." I said, "Are you glad to be here?" And she gave a deadpan "Thrilled." Mom managed to stay up long enough to watch "Dancing With the Stars" and cheer when what's-his-face got the boot. When the show was over she summarily gave me the boot, and was practically asleep by the time the door shut behind me.

The cardiologist came by earlier and ordered some more tests, but didn't have any solid opinions about what's going on. So we're back to square one. Or maybe it's not square one - but it feels like a square. And we're on it - waiting, again, for that elusive period of "relative health" that I keep talking and dreaming about. While we're waiting, here's a quote about the journey:


On the Fear of Death, from Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers
but to be fearless in facing them.

Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain
but for the heart to conquer it.

Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield
but to my own strength.

Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved
but hope for the patience to win my freedom.

Grant me that I may not be a coward,
feeling your mercy in my success alone;
but let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.

Much love,
Dave