Yesterday Cliff took the first step toward hearing again!

Things went without a hitch yesterday with the cochlear implant.  We arrived at the hospital at 7 A.M., an hour early, thanks to Cliff's worrying that we'd get up caught in the morning rush hour.  We had picked up our daughter Rachel, who took off work to be our driver, and she drove both ways, going and coming.  That was great, because Cliff has never liked driving in the city, especially in Kansas, where he isn't familiar with any of the roads.  In spite of our early arrival in Leawood, the nurses took him in quickly and proceeded to get him ready for surgery.

The surgery itself took less than two hours.  Cliff was dizzy and a little bit silly when he got in the car to leave.  We were all hungry, and he "drunkenly" told Rachel to choose someplace for us to eat on the way home, patting her arm as he spoke.  She chose the Hi-Boy Cliff and I used to favor when we first met, just a couple blocks or so from where his family lived at the time.  Then we went to our Oak Grove Walmart to get two prescriptions, one antibiotic and one for pain.  I knew he wouldn't be taking the pain medication, because they knock him out; but I'll use one once in awhile on a bad knee day.  It's always nice to have those, in a pinch.  

Cliff was still pretty dizzy after we got home, so every time he got up, I walked with him wherever he was going.  I also slept with him, in case he had any kind of problem during the night.  Normally the dog and I sleep in my little bedroom; I on my much softer mattress, and the dog in his much-smaller kennel.  

We both got up pretty early this morning; Cliff took a couple Tylenols and is napping on the couch now.  

I took this last night.  That big thing over his right ear didn't manage to stay in place overnight, but he was supposed to take it off this morning anyway.  I told him he didn't have to smile, but he managed a tiny Mona-Lisa smile, anyway.

This behind-the-ear tapes are supposed to stay there for a week.  I hope they make it!  He isn't supposed to stoop over for two weeks, but he said he keeps forgetting and has already bent over twice.  I guess I'd better watch him closer.  He isn't to blow his nose, or sneeze through his nose.  He also isn't to lift anything over 25 pounds.  His dizziness seems to be gone, so he could drive if he needed to.  However, I made sure we had everything we need for this week, so we'll likely not be going anywhere.

So far, so good!

   

Two meals a day

Cliff and I are now eating two meals daily:  Breakfast  at 5:30 A.M. for me, and 7:30 or so for him.  We have our other meal, which we call dinner, between one and two P.M.  We don't normally snack between meals, either; so if our dinner is over by 2 P.M., that's it until the next day.

If you'd told me I'd ever be eating in this pattern and not snacking in the evening, I'd have said you were lying.  But the thing is, we eat a lot of anything we want, at our meals.  I'm not even that hungry when I wake up the next morning!  However, it does cause a small problem:  if I have some leftovers, it's hard to crowd them in, especially considering some things aren't eaten at breakfast... or at least, they weren't until lately; and I hate to throw away good food.  But lately I have become a human garbage disposal!  This morning I ate the last of the cabbage and noodles (haluski) that I made three days ago; I also ate a small avocado and some gingerbread with whipped cream for my breakfast.  This isn't an every morning thing, it's just what needed to be dealt with today.  Cliff, so far, eats regular breakfast food like eggs and toast, or cereal and a banana.  

I have a terrible appetite for sweets, and sometime I make a complete fool of myself over pies, cakes, cookies, or ice cream.  I'd probably be better off if I had inherited my mother's type 2 diabetes, because then I'd have to cut way back on my sugars and carbs.  But here I am, 78 years old, eating anything and everything.

When Cliff is out running around without me, which doesn't happen much, he's taken up buying me a surprise treat of some sort.  Like this lovely little sack of goodness.

I don't buy candy because I can't keep out of it, so it really is a treat for me.  I had never tasted this particular kind of chocolate, but once I tasted it, Lloyds of London wouldn't have insured that bag of sinful pleasure.  I think I ate all but five of the little chocolate globes, and I saved them for the next day's dessert.  My husband ate one because I wanted him to know how good it was; after that, he refused any more.  

Today  we went to Walmart, and he went in with me.  As we walked down the main aisle, he pointed out the same sort of candy there within reach.  "No," I told him.  "I don't see a thing."  

I averted my eyes and headed toward the checkout.  But once we got there and were checking out, I saw a bag of that candy that had somehow jumped into the cart when I wasn't looking.

I guess I know what I'll be having for dessert.  I just hope I leave more for tomorrow this time.

Now, after reading this little story, you will understand why my husband has lost considerable weight on the two-meal-a-day plan, while I haven't lost so much as an ounce.