Today Elaine is back with us. She is of course still weak, but the fabulous epidural block has kept her pain to a minimum. She's managed to get out of bed and across to a chair twice, and she's got her wit and her wiseacre humor back. Tomorrow I think she's going to try walking, which is remarkable when you appreciate how traumatic the surgery was.
We've been inundated with good wishes, good advice and flowers - the room looks like the tops of the cars at the Godfather's funeral, so we have no idea where we'd put more - and the outpouring has been very poignant and gratifying.
I've been supplied with a cot so I can stay here, which allows us to remain together and let's me help with simple tasks in lieu of the nurses. Ever an HR professional, Elaine memorizes the clinical staff's' names upon meeting them, and woos them into submission with personalized small talk. It is awe-inspiring.
Several expert friends have reiterated that the prognosis for ovarian cancer can be quite good, so we're optimistic and see this as a not insurmountable challenge.
In other words, compared with yesterday's harshness, today has been positive and upbeat, with the sense that we're prepared to deal with this.
Thanks for your deep concern and warmth.
(Elaine and) Brian