Lou was finally released from the hospital after three extra days.
We had to wait for the saline to run through Lou’s body and out into the drainage bag with no blood in it. It seemed like that darn bag was full of pink fluid forever! But finally, one very rainy afternoon, the doctor came in to check, and he said the fluid was clear enough for us to go “home.”
We were so ready to be out of that hospital room.
There was a lot to do to make this move to Miami a reality, and the first thing on the agenda was for Lou and Steve to work out his compensation package. Steve had already offered to let us stay in his guest room for as long as we needed while we looked for a place to live. It was a very generous offer because Lou really needed to rest up before he could hit the ground running. He still had to wear a walking catheter for at least a few more weeks, which would make going into the office right away pretty tricky.
But this plan seemed to work best for Steve, too. Steve was hoping to stop going into the office as much now that Lou was on board, and so if we were staying at his house, the two guys could get together throughout the day to discuss and implement any new ideas. Then Steve could hand off a lot more responsibilities to Lou once he was well enough to go into the office.
I remember that Lou was released from the hospital in the late afternoon, and he was eager to get out of there. But removing the saline pump apparatus, getting his hemoglobin test results back, and meeting with our latest indigent caseworker took a toll on Lou’s energy levels.
Also, my driving in that sports car in the torrential rain didn’t help much either.
That car was so low to the ground that you could feel every pebble I ran over in the road. I was still trying to find my way around to the various places we needed to stop before we got to Steve’s house, so I think between my slow and indecisive driving, and all of the water-covered potholes I managed to nail on our way home, Lou was completely ruined for the rest of the day.
But when we arrived, the nanny was there to greet us. Her English was terrible, but she was such a kind person. She was instantly so worried about making sure Lou had everything he needed.
Steve and Paola were out for the rest of the evening and night, and the nanny was already preparing supper for the baby. She wanted to make sure Lou had something to eat, too, so she set Lou up in the den by the kitchen. There was a huge (white) leather sofa that had a reclining sectional, and the nanny made sure Lou had a cold drink, a huge bowl of Cuban rice with chicken, and Sports Center on the big screen TV.
She kept saying in broken English that Lou was “the big baby,” followed by a huge laugh. It was so sweet!
But despite the nanny’s kindness, and her obvious love for her big baby, it was immediately clear that staying with Steve and Paola was going to be a hassle for everyone.
For starters, having the bathroom situated so far away from the guest room was a huge problem. Lou’s catheter bag could only hold so much liquid; so the bag had to be emptied at least twice in the middle of the night, and multiple times during the day. This meant that both Lou and I had to quietly walk by the baby’s room, and down the long (white) hallway, without making a peep at night or when the baby was napping.
Luckily, Lou and I were a very practiced team when it came to emptying the bag. But on the second day, when I realized that Steve and Paola’s master bedroom suite was directly on the other side of the bathroom wall, I was constantly stressed about flushing too many times during the night.
I think it was on the fifth or sixth day that I discovered a very small (white) powder room off the living room, which was actually closer to the guest room, and meant we didn’t have to walk passed the nursery. I honestly felt like I had just found a hundred dollar bill in my pocket when I found this room! It was over-decorated with plastic (white) flowers and crystal light fixtures, but it quickly became my favorite room in the entire house!
The other truly awful part of our living situation was the fact that we were in the room right next to the baby’s room.
So this meant that if the baby had a rough night, and started crying, Lou and I had a rough night (mostly minus the crying). While the nanny was tending to the little baby, I had to tend to the big baby, and it felt like this particular end of Steve and Paola’s house was always filled with diapers and needy people. But honestly, the worst part about being by the baby’s room was the continuous loop of videos that ran from the moment the baby woke up until the baby finally went to bed for the night.
Paola and the nanny’s favorite video series to play for the baby happened to be Dora the Explorer. It was brutal. I feel like I started to develop a mild case of PTSD brought on by the never-ending chorus of:
