A New Pain Level

Saturday, April 3

3:37 am

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

That’s the first time I’ve cursed.

Later note from Christine: I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard my dad say that word outside of a quotation or a joke. The UVA staff made an exception to the COVID-era visitation hours and allowed me to stay overnight on Friday in Dad’s room in the intermediate care unit, since the nursing staff was limited during the night and he had been left in significant discomfort waiting for help at one point the night before. (This is apparently one of many instances of Dad receiving “special treatment” from the hospital, unbeknownst to us, because the doctors and nurses liked him so much. Star patient!) So I was there when Dad fell asleep a little after 11 pm and when he woke up shortly before 3:30, when Melanie came into the room to take his vitals and give him medication. As soon as he awoke, Dad started moaning in pain. The head of his bed was raised so that he was sitting up at an angle, and while he slept his head had dropped to the side and stretched the injured muscles in his neck for hours. He was in agony—more pain than he had been in since the start of this ordeal. I felt terrible for him, but I was so glad I was there to change out his pillow every few minutes and be there with him during the rest of that very long night.