I was driving to the hospital on my nightly food delivery with Zoe when Gerry texted. He is awake.
I thought he meant conscious had no idea that he actually meant that our Willi was all there — skinny and sweaty but acting more as if he had just come out of a bout with influenza or something.
Harassing his sisters, joking with his best friend on the phone, reading his cards and asking when he was going to get out of here.
His father and I sat in the Ronald McDonald room. It’s like being Italian restaurant on a movie set with the white checked tablecloths. I have brought an Austrian favorite that his mother always makes. We sat and looked with one another; I had tears in my eyes, my eyes wide. Just stunned. And for the first time since I have known him –other than tearing up or a few stifled small cries — his face just crumpled as he sat stock still and he sobbed. In relief.
Willi’s night was difficult. He tosses and turns, is agitated and oppositional. Something that I guess is common with the overstimulation of traumatic brain injury. They’re managing the pain with oxycodone and Valium and Benadryl.
today he moves to inpatient rehab.
None of the nurses on the ICU could believe it. The doctors couldn’t believe it. We saw a glimpse of what people usually only see only months on
He opened his eyes and looked at me. He sort of smirked. Made a goofy face. I asked if I could hold his hand and he jokingly looked disgusted and then I asked if I could kiss it and I did — I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed it . Told him how much I love him.
Gerry said it best on the CaringBridge this morning. We understand now that it’s a marathon but we had no idea we’d be running the marathon on the roller coaster..