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.”