Home

A year ago, "Home" was a completely different place and now it is a rental in the northern San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles.  It's not even The Maven's "real" home, as she has an apartment she rents in her brother's house in the city, but since she has been here for a few months and has settled in, this was home to her yesterday when she returned from the hospital.

Home is where your kitties are, where the crazy Bostons live and where your mom and dad, brother and sis-in-law are to welcome you back with love and food.  It's where wonderful cards of support from friends, family and strangers (no more) arrive and show you that you are loved and that many are thinking of you.

She's back home.

It wasn't an easy drive back here for someone who is still very dizzy, sore and somewhat disoriented, but we made it back.  Safe and sound.  And our star patient walked from the car to the house under her own steam with my fancy pink cane from my knee injury. (Okay, not the coolest look for a twenty-something, but she used it!)  We are to always be with her when she walks anywhere so Mr. T followed behind her with his hands on her shoulders.  Up three steps, turn, down three steps into the family and collapse on the couch (carefully).  She did great!

  

But it was hard and stressful.  Her brain was tired, her eyes were tired, but neither would let her rest.  We kept everything low-key and quiet (well, for the most part, as quiet as this household gets), Maven's kitties descended upon her and helped her stay calm and centered.  Once the brain gets worked up, it's hard to get it to settle down, but soon it did and she had a good night's sleep, calling me via cell phone (no old bell here - although to be honest I wouldn't have heard it like I did the ring of the phone) a few times during the night.

Today The Maven caught up on the sleep she missed yesterday during her transition from hospital to home and it has made a world of difference.  We have walked in the backyard, sat in the backyard, walked out front, watched TV (couldn't yesterday because of sensory overload) and ate well.

Most importantly we laughed.  We laughed at the sight we made, me the somewhat arthritic 50ish mom leading around my young, healthy daughter with a pink cane. She was able to see the humor in the fact that the right side of her face is having some slackness to it (which is expected and should go away) - "Guess I'll wait and meet that guy for coffee in two weeks, not one". We watched the irritating, but can't-stop-watching-NJ Housewives and laughed. Laughter is important when you are in the midst of a crisis.  When you are young and having to put your life on hold once again. You have to laugh, or you cry.

 You also learn empathy and understanding for what some people live with every day of their lives with such dignity and strength. And laughter, if possible. Or at least moments of happiness.

The Maven is on her way to have many moments of happiness.  She will work hard to get her balance back and her facial muscles under control. She will stay positive and determined. She will do the exercises and thrice daily walks necessary to gain her strength and work on her balance. She will and I will too. And we will both be the better for it.

And we will try to laugh along the way, because in our family laughter is some of the best medicine.

She's home.

Thanks to everyone for your support and encouragement!

Pictures from St. Vincent's Hospital in the middle of Koreatown in downtown LA. This hospital is one of the oldest in Los Angeles and is Catholic based with many lovely works of art honoring the nuns/nurses, doctors and staff who have worked there over the years.  To illustrate the melting pot nature of the LA area, The Maven's two surgeons were of the Jewish faith, her surgery nurse was Sister Priscilla, one of the few nuns left practicing here and her anesthesiologist, Korean. Staff nurses were Mexican, Filipino, Asian, Caucasian, African American.  People come from all over the world to have the type of surgery that The Maven had done here.  There is an attached extended-stay hotel/residence for out of town patients and their family members. 

 The House Clinic sits across the street, where the modern technique for removal of Acoustic Neuromas was pioneered in the 1960s by Dr. House. How incredible that we ended up in this very place at just the right time. 
Wow.