Homecoming

Tomorrow Marty will come home from the hospital. He’s been in the rehab portion of the hospital for about a week now, and has been doing really well. Earlier this week Marty told Mom, Dad, and I that he was getting 100% on all of his therapy tasks. I joked that he would be graduating from rehab summa cum laude. Overachiever. It’ll be nice to have him back home. :)

Sibling Silly Poll

The results of the sibling poll are in. Eight of nine believe that Dad is sillier than Mom, and 1 thinks Mom is sillier than Dad. As the results were being acquired, Dad was most often the one claiming that the individual conducting the poll was biasing the answers. But you should have heard the fuss that Mom made when her single vote came in! :)

The question also arose—who do our spouses think is sillier?

So, let’s continue this discussion. Friends, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc., are your parents silly? Who is sillier? Any other thoughts on silliness?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the silliest one of all?

Prank Calls

The other day as I entered Marty’s room, he had the room phone in his hand and was dialing. He saw me, hung up, and stood up to greet me. Who was he calling? Me. Now, it didn’t occur to me until later to wonder just what the next step would have been had I not walked in the door. What kind of phone conversations does someone with his jaw wired shut have?

Does it really matter? Maybe he’s not calling to say something. Maybe he’s calling to hear something—me talking. And that didn’t seem so odd at all. In fact, it was cute. So that night I told him that if he wanted to call me, he could anytime. And the next night I wrote down my work and home numbers just in case. Today while I was at work, my phone rang. Caller ID said it was the hospital. I answered. Didn’t hear anything on the line and hung up (figuring it was somehow the voicemail that I had just hung up with). A minute later, the phone rang again. Again, the hospital.

Hello?

(breathing noises)

Marty, is that you?

(more breathing noises)

I love you.

(three distinct breathing noises)

And so it continued for a minute or so with me mostly just rambling until he hung up and the line was dead.

He called again in the afternoon. I got a little smarter and suggested that 2 taps or whatevers meant yes, 1 meant no, and of course, we knew what 3 meant. Again I was rambling on for awhile when there were three long and loud sounds from the pushing of phone buttons, as if to say, “Hey, why are you ignoring me? I have something important to say!” He’d been giving three taps, but I just wasn’t paying attention.

Note to self: Conversations still go two ways—even when you’re on the phone with someone who can’t talk, you still need to listen!

Hooding

Saturday was my graduation ceremony. I didn't make it. But Christie Sue and John posted a banner in my apartment proclaiming "Congratulations Dr. Sonnet!" Later that day Marty's mom asked if they had also hooded me. I joked, "If hooding me means they put a pillowcase over my head and then punched me, yes. They did."

ps. They didn't really do that.

I scream, you scream

Christie Sue and John left yesterday morning. Razor noticed them packing their suitcases, and each time one of them would take a trip of stuff to the car, she’d cry at the door. We said goodbye at the car, and I think Razor would have been perfectly happy to hop in the car and go with them. As it was, it took some persuasion to get her back upstairs to the apartment. And then after they left she wanted to go outside again, I think to find them. She immediately ran to the space where their car had been. She sniffed around, checked out some of the nearby sidewalks ( just in case they betrayed her and had snuck off to a different apartment), and rechecked the parking space.

When I first told Marty about his card from Razor, he got very excited. And then I had to tell him that I’d left it at home accidentally. He shook his finger at me as if to say, “Shame on you!” Fortunately I remembered it the next day. He really liked the card. And he wrote “I haven’t seen our puppy in a few days. :(” Yesterday I remedied that. On my first visit to the hospital I took Razor along too. She waited in the car for awhile, and I arranged with Marty’s nurse for him to go outside on the grounds. Razor was a little unsure of the whole thing. She’s apparently not a big fan of wheelchairs. But she was very good. And Marty definitely liked having her around. I think we’ll be doing that again soon.

Also, yesterday I gave Marty a haircut. I was telling Marty that it looked OK, but he probably wouldn’t ever want me to give him a haircut again as I wasn’t very adept with the clippers. He pointed out that unlike other haircuts he’s gotten, this one was free.

Over the past couple days before I’ve left the hospital I’ve asked Marty if there’s anything he needs or wants me to bring him. His answer is pretty consistent: Ice cream, specifically an ice cream cone. I’ve promised him that as soon as he’s allowed to have ice cream, I will get him as much as he wants. And in case I forget, he’ll keep reminding me that’s what he wants.

A few steps on a long journey

Without a doubt my life these days is very different than it was a month ago. But it’s also very different than it was just over two weeks ago.

This week I’ve noticed pity and sadness in people's eyes when they come to visit Marty and their visit is filled by me using gauze pads to wipe up and catch what Marty coughs out of his trach tube. And I get it. This hospital scene stands in such stark contrast to their own memories of Marty. And in that sense, yes, it’s pitiful and sad.

But what I see is Marty’s progress. No, he’s not the Marty of a month ago, but he’s not the Marty of two weeks ago either. He has come a long way from that night in the emergency room when I asked the surgeon if he’d be OK and was told, “I don’t know.” He’s no longer in critical care. He knows me. He sees me. He loves me. He smiles. He walks. He’s stubborn. He lets me know what’s on his mind. And, as of yesterday, he pees without a foley catheter. I know this might not sound like too much. But for me, it is all miraculous, and I’m thankful for it all—even if it means I sometimes get the not-so-glamorous job of catching what Marty coughs up.

Other news: Sue, John, and Razor had craft time today. Here’s what they made.



Also, I think Razor has a crush on John. It’s funny to watch her maneuver to be the center of John’s attention. And I think Razor would be in heaven if John would let her lick him continuously. But alas, at some point he says, “That’s enough.”

Message Waiting?

My phone has apparently decided to start screening calls for me. I thought it odd when someone mentioned leaving me a message that I'd never gotten. So I decided to check my voicemail even though it hadn't told me that I had any messages.

"You have thirteen new messages."

Huh!? It seems my phone has been keeping all of the messages I've been receiving for the past 4 days a secret. So, if you called and left a message, but I never called you back or even acknowledged your call, sorry.

Tonight I took Marty a spiral notebook. We wrote some love notes back and forth. And then we watched Wheel of Fortune.

A Few Lists

Things I'm Grateful for Today:

1. I'm grateful for morphine to take away Marty's physical pain.
2. I'm grateful that the doctor decided that we could go ahead with the power of attorney paperwork and that I now have that taken care of.
3. I'm grateful for a nice and understanding boss.


Things I miss about Marty:

1. I miss phone calls or emails from Marty during the day at work.
2. I miss carpooling together.
3. I miss deciding on dinner and making it together.
4. I miss watching Wheel of Fortune together.
5. I miss family walks around the lake.
6. I miss getting talked into going to get ice cream at 10pm.


Things I still enjoy on a regular basis:

1. Looking into Marty's beautiful blue eyes.
2. Being wrapped up in Marty's arms.
3. Running my fingers through Marty's hair.
4. Exchanging three squeezes.

A good day!

Today was a good day. Marty is doing well. This morning he patted his bed, and I asked if he wanted me to sit on the bed with him. I indicated the bottom of the bed. He shook his head “no” and patted his lap. So into his lap I got. He put his arms around me and rested his cheek against mine. We sat like that for a few minutes. It was perfect.

He is using his whiteboard. Once, I was in the hall as he and his mom were talking and using the whiteboard. I came in the room and said something like, “Oh, what are you writing?” Marty pulled the board close to him as if to let me know that it was between him and his mom and none of my business. So cute!

It broke my heart and made me want to cry to see tears fall from his eyes a couple of times as he was having procedures done. One of the most draining (for him) but also exciting parts of the day was when the physical therapist came and we helped him get up out of bed to walk around the halls a bit. He did very well.

Tomorrow he is scheduled for the next stage of surgery. I’m glad about that because throughout the week as I’ve seen his improvements I’ve been eager for the doctors to schedule this.

On the homefront, I’m glad to have Caroline, John, and Sue here. They’ve done a good job of taking care of me this week—whether helping with my laundry, driving me around, making me eat, taking care of Razor, giving me hugs, all of it. Yesterday, Sue and I were asked if we are twins. So, in the course of one week, I’ve been asked if I’m the twin of Anne Marie, Caroline, and Sue. That’s fun.

Who needs a new blog when this one ain't broke?

This morning when I got to the hospital Marty was out of his bed and in a chair. Yesterday was his first time being in the chair. I think he likes it as a nice change from lying in bed all day. He’s been restrained for much of his time, whether in bed or the chair just to keep him from pulling at all the various tubing he has. This morning his nurse released his hand restraints while I was there so that I could more easily hold his hand. He was able to adjust his chair to be reclined or upright as he wanted. He was pretty interactive with me. Answering questions with nods, etc, and he was being pretty expressive with his hands as well. Yesterday we were holding hands and he was changing his grip. I jokingly asked if he wanted to thumb wrestle, and I suggested that this might be my chance to win. He shrugged his shoulders as if to tell me, “Maybe. But I doubt it.”

This afternoon Marty was moved out of intensive care. I have mixed feelings about it. I’m overjoyed that Marty is progressing enough in his recovery to be out of the ICU. But I miss the one on one care he got there. Both Marty and I have gotten a little frustrated at my inability to understand what he’s trying to communicate with me. I’m trying to get better at knowing what he may be wanting or needing. Tonight I got a small dry erase board to see if that would help us. We’ll see how that works for us tomorrow.

Everyday I see progress. Everyday small miracles.

Three Squeezes

One of my earliest memories is of Mom squeezing my hand three times and knowing that it meant “I love you!” It was like a secret code--and I knew how to crack it.

Over the years that code has occasionally been manifested in alternative ways. In college when Caroline and I had a thin wall dividing our bedrooms, our nightly routine involved knocks on the wall. Knock, knock….knock, knock, knock. “Good night. I love you!” If Caroline was in bed and too far away to knock, she’d shout her reply.

I shared the code with Marty around the time we got married, and since then it has become a part of our daily communication with each other. Again, we’ve adapted the code to us. It doesn’t need to be a hand squeeze—three pokes in the arm with a finger does just as well in conveying the meaning.

Over the past few days, I have felt an abundance of love. It’s like everyone I know is sending those three squeezes from where ever they are. The love and support I have received from everyone has been amazing! Thank you! Thank you for the prayers and the phone calls and hugs and tears—all of it. I have needed it and continue to need it.

As I’ve sat by Marty’s side I’ve attempted to pass everyone’s love on to him. I squeeze his hand many, many times—almost always in multiples of three. I cried tears of joy when he began giving me three squeezes back.

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It has been suggested that I might start a new, private blog where I post updates of Marty’s status and progress. Any thoughts?

Monday Sampling

Let’s say you were asked to write a short essay (we’ll call it an “abstract”). Say it was supposed to be on some of your after-school activities. So you decide to write about riding your bike and walking your dog, and you address each of these with a few sentences of support. Probably you wouldn’t want to end your little essay like this “I enjoy the things I do after school like riding my bike, eating slugs, and walking my dog.” Would you?

I’m in a book club! We met for the first time last week. It was fun. I like the chance it gives me to get to know some of the women in my ward a little better. Our book for next month is Mere Christianity. I’m excited about that since that has been on my “to read” list for a long time, but I haven’t gotten to it yet.

Tonight as I drove home, I drove fast and with the music loud. In actuality it was rush hour, and you can’t really go all that fast during rush hour. But I wanted to drive fast. The loud music was really the first radio station not playing commercials, which happened to be the Christian rock station. So I was singing “I can only imagine”—loudly (for those not familiar with that song, it’s sort of along the theme of “I wonder when he comes again” but with a bass line, if that helps). By the time I got home I had driven and sung my frustrations out. Turns out it was loud and fast enough.

Lately we have been enjoying Firefly, a television series that aired on the Sci-Fi channel and is now on DVD. Also, we watched the movie Serenity, which is sort of a sequel to the series. I think some of y’all would also enjoy this series and movie.