We decided you felt as though you've been on the bullet train today. I am ecstatic! First things first-you slept better last night. Your dreams weren't nearly as bizarre. Your day began with a shower very early this morning. You reported that you got one yesterday as well and it felt like a spa treatment. Having your hair washed seemed to be the height of luxury to you. You look fantastic!
You moved to "the floor" (another 'medical term'). You are in room 669, bed 1. The speech team came to give you a swallow test with a camera. You must have passed because not only did you get to have some Jell-O, as predicted, you got to try potato, spinach and broccoli soup. You still can't have liquids, expecially milk, but the therapist promised to bring you..... DRUM ROLL-tea!
for your test tomorrow. She even asked if you wanted sweet or unsweet. You took a short stroll down the hall with the beautiful Jessi and her pal. What an accomplishment. You are now almost tubeless; you an IV in one hand and the "food toob". You got to report to your three brave muskateers over the telephone.
Now for the piece de resistance--the trach is out!! Imagine! Two doctors came into the room, asked you to sit up on the side of the bed and announced that they were going to take out the trach. We both gasped! You just kept lying there. We were both stunned. They tried again. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You all know the plan, but I just woke up a few days ago. I need for you to back up and explain this plan."
"You mean you just stand right here and pull it out?!" I croaked.
" Yep. Then we put some treated gauze over it and tape it down, and it closes off on its own. You'll be able to breath and eat just fine. It will take a bit of getting used to. You might have a bit of difficulty talking. Give it a few hours." Both of us were nervous, but I patted you on the shoulder hoping you wouldn't realize how I felt. I tried to sound reassuring when I told you that they doctor had explained this when they put it in.
Well, you were a bit anxious for a while, but by the time I left this evening, you were talking fine. So who's surprised?
Now we know what riding the bullet train is like.
This writing to you about you now that we can actually converse, is feeling rather goofy. I may have to make an adjustment.
What a red letter day, brother.
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3 comments:
Yeah, it was a red letter day. Felt so good to crawl into bed next to you, rest our heads on each other's shoulders, and just talk, talk, talk. Isn't it wonderful to discuss what this all means to you, what you've been feeling, thinking, and what you've REALLY been thinking about since you're no longer fogged out by drugs.
It was sweet sharing tears with you last night, too. Sorry I've been the one that keeps dropping all the bombs on you! But I guess it was good that I got to be the bearer of bad news and not your immediate family. You know I'm here for you, buddy! :0) Guess I AM the sand in your oyster!
Out of the ashes you are truly rising now, Mikey. I am so proud and humbled to have you as a friend.
Remember to rest and take care of yourself in these next few heady days of food, drink, and visitors!
Holding you in love and light,
Robin
Yea!!
Dixie, please don't stop posting. Maybe in your posts, you should just talk to us instead of him?
Please tell him I've been thinking about him and sending him lot's of good mojo!
I'm so glad he's getting better so much quickly now!
I second that, Swebby... For some of us, this is our entire connection to the process. Please keep posting!
Chad
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