We had received no official sign that we would be going home early, other than our determination to finally go home this weekend. In fact, we found out that they had plans to keep us there for a few more weeks. The decision changer was Mason walking! Physical therapy had no reason to keep us longer after that! Poor Mason was seen by every doctor possible yesterday, in anticipation of his discharging (which they didn't tell us about until late afternoon). I think the grand total was somewhere around 10 doctors. But the good news is that he has passed whatever tests they needed him to pass, and is now sleeping soundly on the bed behind me. At home.
I admit that after all of my frustrations with being in the hospital, and my anticipation to go home, I am beginning to miss the comfort of medical professionals being nearby. I did not sleep well at all last night, for fear that it would be the night that something went terribly wrong...and there were no machines to tell me so. Mason was up until 3 or 4 AM, asking for food and other comforts he enjoyed in the hospital. He was more relaxed than he ever was at the hospital, but he still talked in his sleep about not wanting medicine, or to be poked.
I also got the scare of my life, when my dad walked in the room and called to me in panic because Mason was up walking by himself! I woke up and leaped out of bed, catching him just as he was rounding the bedside, holding on to it for support. I told him he shouldn't get out of bed alone. He's still very wobbly when walking. He told me very nonchalantly: "I'm not tired anymore. I want to walk." So we walked.
He is more and more himself, and keeps saying how happy he is to be home. Last night he told me a joke. It made absolutely no sense, but he just laughed and laughed, and it was the cutest thing! He knows he isn't done with the doctor yet, though; he has asked me a few times today, if he had to go back to the doctor again, and if they were going to poke him again. I couldn't lie, so I told him that he would have to go back in a few days, and that they may need to poke him. I should have left the poking part out. It made him cry. I have no idea how he's going to make it through the next 6 weeks of daily treatments, then the next year of weekly treatments, and occasional hospital stays.
All things considered, our first day home has been very relaxing. After all, there's no place like home.
I have never agreed more.