Still in waiting

I didn't mean to keep anyone in suspense about what happened on Tuesday, but in the interest of preserving the little sanity that I had remaining, I decided that it was more important to sleep than to blog for a couple of days.
Tuesday didn't quite go as expected. We were hoping that Mauri wouldn't wake up to find a newly bandaged leg, and, to a certain extent, we got what we were hoping for.
No, they hadn't grafted the area on his back, but they hadn't decided that they weren't going to do it either. So, the day that was supposed to be the moment of truth, really wasn't, and we were forced into 6 more days of waiting, unknowing.
While this seemed like good news to Mauri's dad and my aunt (for some strange reason), for Mauri and I, it was worse news than either of the expected possible outcomes. Instead of finally knowing what was going to happen, and just getting it over with, we were once again stuck in limbo, not-knowing what to expect. Yes, I know, I'm the one who said "No news is good news," and, logically, it is better to be conservative in treatment rather than unnecessarily doing an invasive procedure like skin grafting. From our point of view, though, if they had decided that no grafting would need to be done, Mauri may have been moved up out of the "carcel" as early as by the end of the week (meaning he would have been out of there already). Had they grafted, it would have meant that they would have had to wait a couple of weeks for those grafts to stabilize before releasing him upstairs. In our new case scenario, though, we would have to wait yet another week. On Monday they would have another look and decide, possibly grafting later in the week, meaning that Mauri would be stuck in the ICU for several more weeks than originally planned.
The ICU is relatively empty right now: Mauri has been alone most of the time, and for the last couple of days there has only been one other patient on the other side of the ICU that will only be down there for a few more days. On the other hand, a normal Spanish hospital room is crammed with several patient beds (the doctor said we could expect 3 patients per tiny room, although some only have 2). So, for them, it seemed much better (more comfortable) for Mauri to be down in the ICU, and to a certain extent, they are right. They see it as a haven for rest and relaxation (ignoring the constant beeping of machines and bells announcing emergency burns). On the other hand, though, the "normas" of the ICU are very strict, and down there he has, at most, two hours of entertainment (in the way of visits behind a double-glass, tiny window) a day. Being "locked-up" and away from your friends and family is much harder than it may sound. It makes sharing a tiny, worn-down, old, ugly hospital room with 2 other patients and their 36 noisy visitors sound like a party. They haven't been through 3 weeks of it, so they can't really understand.
To brighten up my already super-fun day, my aunt decided that having dinner at her good friend's house (whom I had never met) was just what I needed to lift up my spirits. Anyone who knows me well enough would know that I'd much rather pull a full quadrant of teeth (despite my lack of recent practice) than to go spend the day at a stranger's house. Seeing as I really had no choice, though, I obliged. In exchange for my willingness to be a joiner, I was met with a table set with a few of my favorite things: potato salad, morcilla, and habas (#4, #6 and #7 on my list of "grossest" foods, right behind hard-boiled eggs, worms, and grasshoppers). ¡Qué maravilla!
At anyone else's house, I could let it be known that there was nothing on that table that was going to enter my mouth. Here, though, I didn't know the host, and my plate was automatically filled with a huge portion of potato salad. Finally, though, luck would be on my side, and the host announced that sadly the potato salad was quite boring- it only had tuna fish, potatoes, and arti"chokes" (properly named, of course). Not having hard-boiled egg in it, I could at least force down a few fork-fulls of cold potatoes smothered in mayonnaise, and that's just what I did.
Don't get me wrong, the woman was very nice, and, actually, I'd discover was quite a good cook later on when she brought out a plate of chicken in sauce (I don't know why it was hidden away earlier). She even gave us a bowl of homemade strawberry ice cream while we sat out on her balcony that looked out over Valencia and Mestalla (fútbol stadium). It's just that what feels like home to my aunt, isn't necessarily "home" for me. I was happy to get back to the normally dreaded "carcel" and see Mauri for the first time that day.
The visit, though, wasn't what I expected and Mauri was more uncomfortable than I'd seen him up to this point. Not only was he upset about the new news, was suffering from the procedure on his back, but he was overcome by a heat wave that he said he couldn't take anymore. (Later on we would find out that this was probably a reaction to one of the meds they gave him). The nurses came in and told him that there was nothing that they could do, and when they left him there to suffer though it, he got even more upset- to the point that he said he wanted to throw himself from the bed (luckily, it is impossible for even a strong, healthy person to get up out of it without help). This is the hardest part of the ICU- being behind a window, seeing the person you love suffering on the other side (many times without help from anyone there who should be caring for him), and not being able to do anything to help him. Mauri's dad, seeing that Mauri had reached the point of desperation, ran for help.
They brought in ice cubes and a bottle of ice water, and started to cool him down by running them over his head and neck. Unfortunately, though, our hour was up, and we were sent on our way out the door before he had fully calmed down.
That was what pushed me into hysterical mode. I left, running on very little sleep, without knowing what was happening, only being able to think that I no longer had the end of the nightmare in sight.
I hate to leave you in suspense again, but I have to leave for the hospital now. I will finish updating on the rest of the week later on. Just know, so as not to worry, that things are a little bit better.