2/6/2018

Yesterday’s thoughts today.
Sometimes I don’t know what to say except for the same thing over and over. Then I revert to talking about us and things you are probably not as interested in. I feel like i am writing to “dear diary...”. It is very therapeutic for us to write and get all of our thought down. As I said from the beginning, I am writing mostly towards family, especially David’s momma. And I know she wants to hear those things, as well as my momma.
My last post promoted my mom to come visit the kids yesterday, and they really needed it. And I could stay later with David knowing they had a distraction and someone that loved them there.
Yesterday was terrifying. I walked into his room and he looked like he was on deaths doorstep. I lost it. It is so up and down. Some days he’s more animated, some days he is completely out of it. It’s hard comparing day to day about his progress.
There are six doctors in the practice who oversee David’s care. The first was Dr. Long. He was both brutally honest and opinionated. We had words the first day, but afterwards he was my favorite.
The second was Dr. D ( I can never get his name right... and think his name is Dr. Davidian. Ha.). We also had words the first day but then after he was approachable and kind.
And now I have met Dr. Wilson, who looks scary and unapproachable but is really the nicest. We had no words, we just instantly harmonized. He used a lot of words and explains everything in an honest way. Not brutally but softly truthful.
When I saw David yesterday, after crying so much and thinking the worst, I finally got courage to approach him and ask if everything was going to be ok. ( I don’t know why I feel like Doctors are like school principals and to be feared.)
He reassured me, honestly..., that at this stage, it is hard to compare day to day, and if you do, you will completely spend yourself in emotions. Instead, it should be measured from weak to weak.
(Ok, heavy sigh...)
He also said that for every one day of ICU you can measure three to five days of recovery, give or take. He is in recovery mode since being awake. He was in, let’s save his life mode, for 23 days.
He said other things... he’s by no means out of the woods. And complications can arise being on a vent and tube feeding and such, so they are being quite aggressive in the recovery process to get him off of those things so that all time can be spent towards physical therapy.
I work with the physical therapy team when I am there. They tell me things to do every hour.
When they kick his butt weaning, he looks so bad and is so uncomfortable, that when I suggest practicing on his hands or feet, he emphatically shakes his head ‘NO.’
It takes him saying a few no’s to finally be the heavy and say, “OK, do you want to go home?” His forehead crinkles between his nose, his eyes open as much as they can and emphatically nods his head ‘YES.’
‘Then we gots to dew dis.’ I say in a gansta voice.
Reluctantly he agrees. While my heart is tormented making him do more work when he is altogether spent.
You would ‘think’ I would be an expert at this, being a mother. NOPE. I am not. After twenty three years of being a mother, I still feel like a novice in this area.
And so we go. Day by day. Up and down. Trying to judge week by week when my day dictates otherwise.
I worry about his brother and sister who are going to see him today. I hope they read this first so they are prepared for what they see.
I have got to find a way to find good things in my day as I get up in the morning to go and do it all again. Before David was sick, I had found an app that prompts you to write ‘three things you are thankful for today.’ It has been empty since all of this started, but I will once again resume.
Three things:
One:
David moved his hand back and forth in a very ‘I can’t move my hand’ kind of way. I looked down and said, ‘Oh, you want me to hold your hand?’ He nodded his head extra.
Heaven.
TWO: Believe it or not, David is the nurturer in the family when it comes to physical touch... I am constantly jealous that he finds it so easy. It’s something I have to work at. I motioned Jono to come cuddle with me this morning. Imagine a puppies face when you say, ‘You want a treat?’ And you will get an idea how Jono looked.
He scrambled over, and cuddled in real close, apologizing for wiggling or me thinking he is too close. ‘You are perfectly fine. Wiggle all you want! I am happy you are near me!’
Ahhh. I do have nurturing within me. May it grow BIG!
And ok THREE:
My friend...she comes to mind. She will know I am talking to her...ok. Nurturing is not just squishy happy and cuddles. You ARE a nurturer!
Aww...my little sweet pea friend who always lifts me up and cheers me on!
I was worried I would not have three. But now I am armed for the day. A drive to the hospital with thoughts spent on three magical things.
Enough words, she says.
Love, Shelli
Hearts and hugs and kisses to anyone who got this far in my enormous amount of words.

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