Well, it is Monday. The past two Mondays Daddy Joe has had brain surgeries. We all spent the weekend with him in ICU. We were scared to leave last night because we're becoming superstitious about Mondays and he seems to do so well when we are all there. Usually we get home, and within the next day or two something really bad happens. The first time was last weekend when my mom and I were there and he was wheeling himself around, feeding himself, getting up to use the restroom, etc. Then, Monday was his "fall" which resulted in a stroke, blood clot, and brain surgery.
We ended up getting worse news mid week last week that he was "weakening" and that my grandmother (Gran) needed to "make some choices" by Monday or Tuesday about keeping him on Life Support. That really made us want to get up there to be with them. My mom and I went early Saturday morning, while Jeremy and my Dad picked up Matt from the airport at 6am Sunday morning and then they made the drive to San Antonio. So... all of us spent Sunday all day with him (Gran, Lissa, Jon, Mom, Dad, me, Jeremy, and Matt).
On Saturday when my mom and I got there, he wasn't moving at all and just looked pitiful hooked up to all those machines. They had placed a drain coming out of his head after his second surgery and he had a tracheotomy (tube inserted into his neck to assist his breaths), plus all of his vitals were being monitored and his legs were getting massaged in order to prevent blood clots and of course he had an IV and a feeding tube.
I was crushed to see him and just thought there was no hope. Later that day he started moving little by little- a foot here, a hand here, a small shift of his head, etc. We stayed until visiting hours were over and just before that they had a shift change where his night nurse came in. She walked in smiling saying, "I see he's doing better tonight. Last night when I came in his eyes were looking down when I checked them and tonight they're mid- line (looking at her) and last night his pupils reacted sluggishly and tonight they're briskly reacting. Oh, and he also resisted my push with his foot."
It sounds like small steps but when we had almost just lost hope because they said he was weakening that was just the best news. I know he's on Life Support, in ICU, and has yet to wake up from a surgery that he had a week ago. But... we left last night not feeling like we were saying goodbye for the last time and we had hope that he is just recovering at his own pace. His body has been thru so much and we know he's fighting hard in very grim circumstances to recover.
Whatever happens we know is God's plan. But Gran had prayed for a sign (to tell her he's either getting better or worse) and after days of him not moving, not breathing on his own, etc he lifted his arm onto his stomach s (in front of the nurse) and consistently breathed above the machine while we were there. It is amazing that the doctors say he can't hear us or know we're there. When we walk in the room he usually becomes more "active" (yes, that's definitely a relative term). Anytime we hold his hand, rub his arm, or talk to him his vitals improve and his breathing goes up significantly. It is so neat to KNOW that he KNEW that we were there talking to him, praying for him, sitting with him, etc.
At this point we're praying for whatever is best for him. And there is only ONE who knows what that is...and I'll give you a hint, it's not a doctor. We don't want to push him to hang on if his quality of life will be compromised, but we would love for him to pull thru this, surprise all of his doctors and to be able to heal so that his brain stimulators that were put in place during his first surgery can be used to suppress his Parkinson's symptoms and for him to have many more happy, healthy years ahead of him with his wife, kids, gran kids, family and friends. We miss him and can't WAIT for him to wake up. I want a camera in that room in case I miss it!!!
If you read this whole thing, thank you! Your prayers are appreciated and we still have hope! The phone calls and emails have meant so much to me and I know he is in more people's thoughts and prayers than he will ever know!
(PLEASE FORGIVE MY GRAMMAR MISTAKES AND RUN ON SENTENCES- WE GOT IN AFTER MIDNIGHT AND I WAS UP AT 5AM) :-/
*AND my mom just called telling me that they turned off his breathing machine and that he's breathing on his own!!!!
His little hand and face. Isn't he precious?
It's a boy! He kept trying to flash us and show us that he was a boy during the entire ultrasound. The nurse was trying to get other measurements and finally said, "Okay...we KNOW you are a BOY." Stop showing us that! I hope that's not foreshadowing of things to come (taking off his clothes in public places or somthing). :)
His cute little (big) foot. His Daddy wears a size 13 and I wear a size 9. I'm thinking he'll have some nice sized feet! Hopefully tall, too, so he can learn to play basketball from his Uncle Matt.
