Saw Rick tonight from about 8 to 9 PM. Dear friend Fabio was there pampering away when I arrived. Rick was groggy but giddy. His color was great and he really looked like healthy farm boy Rick we're all accustomed to. Still joking around. He confided that he'd had hallucinations from the Morphine and asked if what he thought he remembered about the success of the surgery was true. Yes, I told him. And told him a few more times before I left. Rick said he thought he dreamed that the surgeon had woken him up after the surgery and told him, "It's a miracle. Good call choosing to do this..." Sounded credible to me. Then Fabio left me with Rick. Night nurse Julie came in. Gorgeous Asian brainiac - and with a wry sense of humor as well! She said that Rick had shocked everyone with his progress. They expected him to be in ICU for a week but our Wixo was gonna be in a chair by 6:30 AM and moved to a regular room probably by the end of next day! Next, I made him talk to his sister Sherri on speaker phone. He lasted about three minutes as his throat was hoarse from the tube that had been taken out only that day. I took a picture of him, but even a drug-addled mind couldn't sideline the ol' vanity, "I look puffy, delete, delete!" So you get a photo of Rick's thumbs up! Anyway, Rick is groggy, sore, itchy but grateful and a little afraid to believe the good news. I read him many of the FaceBook posts and they cheered him. When I got up to go, Rick became the actor he's meant to be and laid on his thickest diva, "Go, go...don't worry about me. I've learned to go it alone..." (hand to forehead and then), "You go to work, Joe. Yes, work was always so important to you..." With that, I ate one of the lovely chocolates Fabio had brought (and that Rick wasn't allowed to eat himself) and I came home to report to you!
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