I did my home visit today, which you'd have heard about earlier if I hadn't spent the afternoon sleeping off the resultant exhaustion.
Executive summary: There's good news and bad news, but the best news is that the bad news all falls into the Okay, that's a challenge, but a workable one category, rather than the Are you fucking kidding me? Or just trying to kill me? category the bad news has generally fallen into over the past couple of months.
I'm too tired right now to go into much detail, so I'm going to continue with just the high points, and post about those details after at least one more round of sleep. (Though I think it worth noting — and is certainly notable from my perspective — that I am neither in too much pain to concentrate, nor too stoned on pain meds: I'm just too tired. Which is really kind of nice.)
My transfer-to-home-care is scheduled for 24 Feb — Weds, six days hence. This is three days earlier than my treatment team was aiming for, and means I will be less well prepared to cope with being home alone than good sense would have me be. But it is not an obvious invitation to disaster like BCBS's two previous decisions to send me home were. In short, I expect it to be challenging, but workable.
I'm going to have to ask for a fair bit of help from my friends those first few days home, as well as a bit of help with preparations in the next few days, and in the subsequent weeks until I can again walk and take stairs with — well, not exactly with ease, but with, say, eightieth-percentile difficulty.
And let me take this opportunity to say how amazing my friends have been throughout all this. A couple weeks ago, when I first got to Newton Care Center (which may or may not be the actual current name of the SNF I'm at now), I was telling the tale of my previous two months' medical misadventures to a new-to-me nurse. I was playing it for laughs, as is my wont, and generally hitting my mark. But when I finished, the laughter disappeared from her face, and she leaned forward and said "Good god, you've really been through a nightmare, haven't you?"
I had, until then, been deliberately avoiding thinking about it in such terms. I play such stories for laughs at least as much for self-defense as for the audience reaction. But it's true, and the truth of her words sent chills down my spine, But being me, I also of course thought about the metaphor, and realized that throughout my weeks of riding the night mare, points of light have kept appearing on the wayside. And at each of those, as we approached, the night mare has pulled up short, and I have been able to dismount and take respite for a while by the fireside, in the warm embrace of the roadside inn of friendship.
Thank you, one and all. I will need to ask a few more of you to light a few more roadside lanterns as my nightmare ride winds down. But winding down it is, and soon I will come to a place where I can dismount for the final time.