Daughter missed 2 days of birth control pills, so her period started today. She asked me to bring supplies when I visit this evening. She has not had a bowel movement since she was admitted. She has informed me she's waiting until she gets home. I don't need that much practice plunging, so I will again ask them to give her something this evening. She says the voices were silent last night, and she slept well and was up early. That's wonderful news. She sounded better today than yesterday. I can hear the improvement in her voice.
I've started my first load of laundry of the day, and am working in the kitchen. I've washed the dishes and now I'm going to make apple sauce. I'm pondering my sermon for tomorrow. I want to have it done before I head to Big City to visit Daughter. As she improves, I recognize just how exhausting her challenges have been for me. I have a wonderful story I often tell in pastoral care situations, particularly with caregivers. A frog who is dumped in a pot of hot water will immediately jump out. A frog that is put in a pot of cold water that is then gradually heated will not escape, and will be cooked alive. It's not until Daughter is safely hospitalized getting treatment (that is working), that I realize how hot the water was that I have been living in these past few months. I'm enjoying the cooler water.