Better days


Better days.
That’s what we’re hoping for, and for today, it seems we got our wish.

Noah and I headed to Mayo this morning. And although I’d prepared him, it was still pretty devastating  - seeing one of his dads with a black eye, largely unresponsive and with so many staples - SO many staples - was an emotional blow.

But for me - today felt like Christmas. I can’t sugar coat it - he’s still in terrible shape - but the trend is rising in the right direction.

I won’t go into the details of yesterday, but will share that the doctors said, they had “hoped he’d be much much clearer” by then and that the brain swelling was causing significant issues.

Today he can swallow, which means they won’t have to use an NG tube to feed him. When they ask him if he is awake enough to drink water or take a bite of applesauce, he nods. His eyes don’t open for long, but when they do, they are attempting to focus. He is generally calmer and his sleep seems more peaceful - though that could be because I finally learned to work Spotify and found a Beetles playlist. The sound of Noah sketching and our quiet conversations seem to remind him that we are here. Neeks has not been able to see him yet, but if things keep moving this way, she should be able to in a day or two.

It’s all I can do to not hop into bed and snuggle him for a nap, but there are still too many tubes to navigate.

Soon.



Comments

Treats said…
I can't imagine how hard it is for the kids to see Rico. I'm glad he's able to hear Noah's sketching, listen to the Beatles and knows that you're there. Where's my magic wand? I want it now. xoxo
Anonymous said…
According to Neeks, you sent it about 8:30 this morning 📚 🍭 j
Anonymous said…
Thinking of you all every minute.
Love, Dave and Martha
Anonymous said…
If my arms were long enough I would hug you, all the way from Vero Beach. Thinking about it by the time my arms got to Mayo they would probably be too skinny to provide much comfort, you get the idea, praying for you, loving you every day.