Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Today they're going to move Big Kid to the acute care center which takes care of people who have to be on ventilators long term. They had planned to do it yesterday afternoon (kind of sprang it on me when I got there), but there was some insurance paperwork to clear up, so they put it off until today.
Many of the ICU staff who have cared for him in the last 25 days had heard about the big move and stopped by to say goodbye and offer reassurances that the center has an excellent reputation and success rate for recovery.
As much as I've come to despise this place, it's almost like leaving family. The valets who park our cars, the security guards, and even the cleaning staff have kept up-to-date on Big Kid's progress through the hospital grapevine, and have offered us so much hope and encouragement through this ordeal. One of the cleaning ladies gave me an embroidered cross on a ribbon to hang over the boy's bed in the new place, and another placed her hand on my arm and said in broken English, "That's a good place! They fix him like new! You see!"
For some reason, to be honest, her ringing endorsement has given us more confidence than any from the specialists.
Dear, dear people. After seeing them day after endless day, they've been woven into the pattern that makes our life.
Big Kid is on 40% oxygen, and they still have him moderately sedated. No change on his lungs. The happy feet have come back, and he is constantly "walking" again. About every third "step", his gown would flip up and expose his stuff.
"You know," I said absently after flipping it back down for the gazillionth time, "we're going to have to start calling you 'The Flash' 'cause you keep showing your junk to the world."
He smiled. A great big goofy smile.
I distrusted it, so I took a sniff. The day before, I'd mistaken an enormous fart smile for a "happy to see Mom" smile. You know, fool me once....
No stinkypoo. It was a smile for Mom. :-)
I looked around to make sure nobody was watching and bent over. In my best Cartman (from South Park) imitation I said, "Moooooom! Git yer bitchass in the kitchen and make me some pie!"
Another big goofy smile. A little drooly, but bright as day.
He's in there. I can feel it. I can feel the part of him that makes him him. We just have to figure out how to get him out in one piece.
Wish us luck on the move. And thanks so much for hanging in with us.