Well, we are still stuck in Sylva for a good number of days until Jill is well enough to travel. I’ll tell more about this little town over coming days. The most outstanding building in town is the old courthouse, now the library. It is high on a hill at the ned of the Main Street and I don’t know whether it is intentional or not, but it seems that no one is above the law in this town.
There isn’t much to report about Jill today. They have stopped her sedation but she still isn’t awake enough for her to respond to anything. I tried holding her hand (abut the only part of her body that doesn’t have tubes, drains or stitches) and asked her to squeeze my finger. She didn’t respond, so she isn’t awake enough to have the breathing tube removed. Maybe tomorrow now – that will be Day 4. At times she opened her eyes and moved around but I think that was because of the pain. As soon as she had another shot of morphine, she relaxed again and her blood pressure dropped remarkably from its very high previous reading.
I thought that I was coping pretty well with this but it’s not much fun being all on your own in a strange place at a time like this. Every time I have a meal on my own I get teary and especially when I have to contact someone like the travel insurance company. They are very nice and ask how I am doing as much as they ask after Jill but there’s no one here with a shoulder on which to lean. I’m clearly not as tough as I thought I might be.
Our minister at our church has very kindly searched the Internet for local churches here and has contacted the Pastor of the local Baptist Church. Pastor Jeff called in to the hospital today but I had taken some time out to get a haircut. However, I spoke to him on the phone and I will have coffee with him tomorrow morning.
There is a young man named Darvin sitting in the ICU waiting room with his father to support his mother who is also quite ill. We had a long chat on Saturday but I didn’t see him yesterday. When I got to the hospital this morning, he came up to me and shook my hand, telling me that he missed me yesterday and was quite concerned about me. We were just at the hospital at different times but it as very nice of him to care. The anaesthetist who saw us prior to Jill’s surgery mentioned, in his souther accent, that “Payple here are real rednecks but they are ‘narce payple’. They truly are!