Back in BICU

You're back to the hive. Back in the burn unit.

Lee saw you today (Friday) for the first time since he left and he is amazed at your progress.

Forrest, Lee and I were allowed in to see you, even though it was not the regular BICU visiting hours (Thanks, nurses!). We got caught off-guard, because we'd expected to find you in the surgical ICU, which has no regular hours. I love the BICU staff so much, but I have to say, this move back is a bit disappointing to us because you're back under restricted visitation hours. This news really made Asia sad. We're also back behind the masks. For the record, donning scrubs and masks is a thing we're so happy to do for the others who are in great, great danger of infection, just the way you were four weeks ago. I just wonder what you must think to see us looking all sterile again. Hoping you don't think something new is wrong.

Your move is nothing to do with your condition, in fact. As far as I know, you're continuing to improve, although your nurse wasn't very forthcoming with me on the phone this evening. (I know -- rules. I bet she gets a gold star.) It's just that your bed opened back up and you're officially their patient still.

But it makes me crazy. Freakin' thirty minutes. They can kiss my ass. (To any BICU staff who may read this: I know it's not your fault. I'm just frustrated because I leave to go home to Denver on Sunday and thirty minute windows was not how I pictured my last Saturday with Dad.)

But enough of my discontent.

YOU SANG ALONG TODAY!

Silently, of course. But you bobbed your head and mouthed the words. Forrest, Lee and I were delighted. You also made a joke about the incessant beeping. It was a funny face. I took you on a tour of your injuries. You seemed concerned about your lower body and I explained there's nothing wrong there. Showed you your healing hand, pointed to your shoulder and forearm burns. You looked along and nodded, nodded. And then told you the only thing keeping you in the hospital at this point is your lungs, because you inhaled a lot of smoke. You made a face like, "Uh. Tell me something I don't know!" We all laughed. I told you that you're getting better every day and said that the trach is a temporary thing. I asked if you knew that I wouldn't bullshit you and you nodded your head.

You seemed very interested in something off to your left, but we couldn't figure out what it might be. You also tried to tell us something. Make no mistake, you're not sitting there, looking all lucid, ready to talk if not for the trach. Even if we could read lips, most things you "say" could probably not be deciphered. You're likely mumbling dog face to the banana patch, to quote Lee's favorite Steve Martin line. We couldn't understand. But I was so proud of you when you did not let it agitate you that we couldn't. You're still doped up, but they've now taken you down to only 5mg/hr. That's 4mg less than yesterday. And I can only take this to mean you're doing good with staying calm. (Way to go team!)

I love you Daddio.