Good Weekend

E. had a good weekend, a really good weekend. Today was probably the best day yet. He was able to go to the movies with the girls, which he always enjoys. He was also able to barbeque. Finally. It is no secret how much the man loves to cook. And it is no secret how much the boys love his cooking. There were some happy, and full, people in this house tonight.

E.'s pretty much ditched his walker already. He's down to one pain pill about every eight hours (despite the fact that he can take 2 pain pills every four to six hours). He's tapered off the steroids, which will hopefully bring his blood sugar levels under control more. Until that happens, I'll remain the "Insulin Injector." (It doesn't even scare me anymore. Woohoo! Now if only I could be as brave about the DMV. Yes, I know, I'm a big baby. And a procrastinator to boot. I still haven't ventured to DMV hell.)

Tomorrow, we see the neuro surgeon. Or actually, we see the neuro surgeon's nurse. It is our understanding that E. will be getting his staples out. Not sure what else happens at tomorrow's visit though. We're assuming it's just a check-up of sorts. We do know that once the staples are out, we can make an appointment with the radiation oncologist to get a radiation plan going, so that will be coming up next.

On Wednesday, E. has an physical therapy "evaluation." That will determine how much physical therapy he'll be getting (the doctor "ordered" two to three times a week for eight to twelve weeks). I think they're going to be surprised at how much progress he's made. I sure am! But then again, this is my first experience with brain surgery. (And hopefully my last!)

I'm not sure when he'll be able to drive again, but I have a feeling that is still a way's off. In the meantime, I'm just going to enjoy all the extra time I get to spend with the big lug. As much crap as I give him, I really do enjoy his company.

If anyone wants to take him to lunch, I'll happily chauffeur his butt there, shoot him up with insulin and leave him in your tending loving care. I promise not to be the helicopter spouse and hover overhead. Or even in the next booth. He'd probably like some time with his wise-ass buddies. Hint-hint.

* Oh, and just as a side note, E.'s vision is still pretty screwed up (hence, the no driving). Reading is out. Texting is also temporarily on hold. So, either call him (or me) or text me (and I'll happily relay the message).