It feels pretty damned wrong to be happy that someone spent a chunk of the day crying, but I am a little bit happy about that. Char woke up in pain and was aware enough to let me and her nurse know about it, and after some medication she went back to sleep. Her pain meds have been adjusted a little bit so that she's more coherent but it feels like they're walking a tight line because she obviously feels more pain. Today she spoke some, which relived me. In the morning she wanted to know what had happened and was satisfied with being told she was in a car accident but would be ok, and she wanted to know where the kids were. That started the tears but I wasn't sure if she was upset because she's worried about them or because she really wants to see them. She tried to tell me but she couldn't talk and cry at the same time and the crying won out.

Her facial swelling has gone down enough that our oldest can see her tomorrow morning, I think. I still don't want the younger two in here yet. I haven't asked about the rules but I'm going with what the rules were when I was a kid and back then you had to be 13 to visit an ICU. I think they'll accept that.

She slept on and off all day but at least now I can tell when she's awake and when she's not. They propped her bed up for a while to see how she took it, and she let me feed her a little bit from her dinner. Her temper is also in good form because when I asked her to try to eat just a little bit more she told me to f@*k myself, and a little after that she told me to go home.

So, I'm home. I stayed until nine o'clock to make sure she was asleep and had gotten her pain meds, but I came home tonight. I think my youngest was disappointed and worried that Dack and Theresa were going home for good but once he was assured they were staying he seemed happy. I think I'll have my daughter sleeping with me tonight. As a rule we don't allow kids in our bed but I think I have to make an exception this time.

Tomorrow afternoon Char is having surgery to put rods in her leg, but I'm not clear on how many. Her leg is broken in two places. Midway on the femur and on the tibia (?) closer to the ankle. If she's up to it before then I'll let our son in to see her, but he's already been told that I'm the only one who gets to make that call and he could wind up in the waiting room with his grandfather instead. He accepts it because we've already established in the last couple of months that I'm the World's Meanest Dad.

All in all it was a better day even though she spent part of it crying. She snapped at me and later said she loved me, so to me that's a good day.