WIP Wednesday

It's hard to believe five Wednesdays, a whole month since I called the ambulance.  I was able to finish the body of the sweater by this evening and am starting on the sleeves.

You've seen lots of bathroom pictures, but how many have you seen taken in an ICU bathroom?  Atleast, I'm not yet homeless knitter taking pictures in a gas station bathroom.  That would really suck.

Details:  merino/angora/silk that I dyed and spun to a three ply light fingering weight.  The sweater is top down, that I'm making up as I go along, because that's how I roll.

From the rear pose.

Other side rear.  I wonder if I can get a modeling job and be my own photographer for more pay?

It comes just to the bottom of my bottom pre-blocking.  The sleeves will be short because this is the desert.

Hopefully should be finished and blocked by next Friday.

This is little Meanie.  I named him/her myself.  Because I've been away so much I haven't had time for this one like I did the previous babies.  He has his Mommy's sunny disposition and yells at me when I come near the cage.  I came home last night to find him out of the nest.  I picked him up and he bit me.  I kissed his beak and he bit my lip.  He looks a lot like our sweet little Herbie,  only the evil twin version.  Herbie still lets me pet him.

I need this in an actual button to pin on my purse, a t-shirt, magnet and coffee cup.

If your my FB friend you saw this with a message that his lung collapsed on Tuesday morning and they were putting in a chest-tube.  It's a good thing I packed a lunch because I stayed the day and was up there for  12 hours.

They placed a perma-cath for dialysis that afternoon.  The renal dr.'s think he'll be having dialysis for quite awhile longer.  They make their decision about life long renal failure after three months from the day they stopped functioning.

This morning, I got a call before I even left the house.  The first chest-tube clotted off and his lung re-colapsed.  The dr. needed to put a second bigger one in the space above the first.  I gave permission, hung up and had myself a good screaming, cussing fit, because I was home and could do that.  Poor guy has two tubes in his side.

I'm told there a third larger size they could go up to if necessary.  The size of a garden hose. I told them if they call me tomorrow before I leave and say his lung collapsed yet again, I won't hang up the phone before I start on a cussing tantrum.  Very rare, they would have to use that.  Yeah, everything that has happened has been very rare so far.  Telling me very rare, isn't comforting.

The attending wants him off the damn vent now.  That's how she put it in rounds.  She read everyone the riot act, including nurses and techs.  You can turn his O2 up if he needs it, but don't leave it up just to leave it up.  I love this attending, fiesty little lady much like me.  Tomorrow (today when you read this) is her last day.  Then another takes over for a week and she said she comes back for a week and he better not still be on the vent when she gets back.  I begged her not to go.

That's all I'm able to type tonight.  Pretty damn exhausted doesn't begin to explain it.  Excuse any missing words or typos.  Just too damn tired to proof read.

How many of you are old enough to remember this one?  It was posted on FB Ultimate 70's Fan Page tonight.  I love this song and so do my birds, they are singing along.