Last night, in the early evening, Tanja moved to room 10 in the Trauma Ward, a step down from the ICU. It’s quite a different environment–less intensive, essentially.

In the ICU the rooms are glass walled and a nurses sits at a station outside the room where they survey the one or two patients they are responsible for. Vitals are monitored constantly and appear on a board in your room, at the nurses station and at the central hub.

The new ward is much calmer and feels more like a hospital rather than a hyperdrive spacecraft bound for planet health . The nurses are great–kind and responsive–and are responsible for a larger number of patients. The environment is calm, without that urgency that is so reassuring in one’s early days in the ICU but which progress and increasing health render gratifyingly unnecessary. It’s great to be able to track Tanja’s MAP in realtime hour after hour, day after day. But it’s even greater not to have to.

As part of this new life on the ward, Tanja is losing some things–her central line, her a-line, her catheter–and gaining others, like permission to have flowers in her room and a handy bedside commode. Oh, and a fantastic view, which, due to the C-collar’s restriction of her neck movement, Tanja has yet to truly enjoy.

One interesting thing we’ve noticed, as Tanja starts to see more friends and family here at the hospital, is the therapeutic effect these visits have, on Tanja of course, but maybe even more so on the visitors. It’s scary to hear about this person you know to be something of a dervish of activity–of hugs and hobbies and dance moves and constant motion– suffering a paralyzing injury. It is natural to wonder and worry about what she will be. Then you walk in and it’s Tanja, unmistakable in her energy and her outlook and it is a balm.

As I write this, she has been busting out bicep curls like prime-time Schwartzenegger and now has exercised herself into a peaceful slumber with a very thoughtful look on her face.

Oh, there’s lots of things: the c-collar is super uncomfortable and will be there for another five weeks, her G.I. tract has yet to shift out of emergency mode and is causing her much discomfort, her head wound is pretty sore. But overall, it has been a good day, a little better than yesterday, and the mood remains hopeful.

In an attempt to keep life toward the normal, I took Wren to a squash lesson today, one we’d scheduled with my teacher way back in the before times. After the lesson, I told the teacher what was up with Tanja. He listened, asked a few questions and then said, “She’s going to have a total recovery.” A ridiculous thing to say. But, as I think about it, I’ve never known him to be wrong.