This morning, a bunch of you may have heard "he's awake". This may have been slightly overstating the case. It's better, but not all over yet. [ETA: We got lots of congratulatory text messages that there wasn't time to respond to this morning. All of you, thanks for thinking of us; it felt really good to have my phone keep beeping so fast I couldn't keep up. :) ]
He's off all the drugs and sedatives; they're just feeding him saline. They got him out of restraints. He's unconscious for most of the time, but has moments of waking, in which he'll reach up and rub his eyes; open his eyes, find the people in the room, and focus on them; put his arms up to get more comfortable; answer questions with a nod; or try to pull out his ventilator line.
He raised his finger and gave a thumbs-up to the neurosurgeon when prompted. He waved goodbye to my uncle. He reached out to my mom and put his arm around her as best he could. He recognized me, and started crying when I told him I loved him.
He isn't coherent enough to come off the ventilator yet (and isn't happy about it) and doesn't seem together enough to talk yet anyway, but this is a huge improvement over the log impression he was doing all yesterday. It's tangible, the relief around here. We're all out of the "dear God, what if he never wakes up" stage, and into the "how long will it be, and will he have any impairment" stage. That step up has had a huge affect on us. The potential physical complications we've been worrying about have dried up one by one, and his mind is gradually clawing its way back to us.
So far, for me this crisis has lasted about 56 hours. It feels like it's been a week. I have to keep reminding myself how quickly he's gotten to this point.
I can't explain how much all your support has meant to me, and all of us here are inexpressibly grateful for all the good will that's been sent our way, but don't feel too bad for me. All day, people at the hospital were apologizing for the crappy Christmas I must be having, but they misunderstand. As my Christmas present, I got my dad shaking and crying with relief as he recognized my voice in the darkness. Nobody could possibly give me anything better.
... Well, okay; Gail came close with the Wii. But my father's love is still ahead by a nose.
December 26 2008, 06:12:59 UTC 3 years ago
hope you got my texts, my phone is being retarded.
December 26 2008, 06:19:44 UTC 3 years ago
I got your text, BTW, and a bunch from other people, too. There wasn't time to respond to them all at the time, so I'm adding a note to the post. Thanks again for thinking of us, man.
December 26 2008, 06:35:45 UTC 3 years ago
also I am techoretard
December 26 2008, 06:20:34 UTC 3 years ago
If you can, give yourself permission to spend some time out of crisis mode for a little while, even if it's just to have a meal and spend time away from the hospital. You'll need that brief recharge to handle the next session.
Also, give yourself and the people around you permission to be insane right now. You're going through an insane experience and feeling and occasionally acting insane is perfectly okay right now. If people don't understand, then tough. One day they will understand and they'll think of you.
Take care. My thoughts are with you and your family.
December 26 2008, 06:31:29 UTC 3 years ago
If you can, give yourself permission to spend some time out of crisis mode for a little while, even if it's just to have a meal and spend time away from the hospital. You'll need that brief recharge to handle the next session.
Don't worry; I'm being pragmatic about my limitations here. :)
This morning, I actually missed his really good early responses because the girls and I stayed behind to make breakfast and get ourselves together while my mom took the early shift. I'm okay with this; I'm just a phone call away, and came straight in when that call came. We've been taking turns going out to get food (I had my first ever Christmas-eve dinner in a casino burger joint!), and to take breaks watching the Mythbusters marathon. Tomorrow, my mom's taking the early shift again while I take a trip to a local shop I'd been planning on visiting before the crisis. I'll be here for my dad until he's okay, but that doesn't mean running myself ragged spending every moment next to the hospital bed.
This isn't to say we don't have to beg and bargain to get my mom to take breaks and eat something now and then, mind you. ;)
December 26 2008, 07:30:07 UTC 3 years ago
December 28 2008, 13:51:35 UTC 3 years ago
December 26 2008, 11:02:42 UTC 3 years ago
Here's hoping for a full and speedy recovery for your dad.
December 28 2008, 13:52:55 UTC 3 years ago
He's well on his way, and the doctors are pretty confident he'll see a full recovery soon.
December 28 2008, 14:48:27 UTC 3 years ago
Glad to hear it!
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December 28 2008, 13:53:35 UTC 3 years ago
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December 28 2008, 13:56:01 UTC 3 years ago
Awesome, awesome Christmas.