I, actually, have no sense of humor that I'm aware of.
Today, I discussed Billy's illegible facebook status with my sister.
I say, "It's disturbing."
She says, "Yes, it is. It's not funny...but it is sort of funny."
And, with a totally straight face, that pretty much sums it up...
(Admittedly, there is a chance that when my mind and body are constantly slammed with a barrage of strong emotion - anger, fear, sadness, thankfulness, love, confusion, resolve, annoyance, hysteria, to name a few - that the "sarcastic centers" of my brain are heightened.)
I am exhausted.
My routine when driving home from the hospital each evening is to blare the music at volume 37 in the car.
Then, once the sound of the hospital monitor is thoroughly drowned out in my mind...
I can think.
I can pray.
Our kids are exhausted.
They haven't seen Billy since the day he landed in the ICU.
And, I probably need to plan to remedy that soon.
College kid is coming home tomorrow.
Victoria is currently sitting at the digital piano, volume 37, playing and singing at volume 137.
Ben is strumming his guitar.
Hosanna works - forces her mind to be present in THAT moment.
They are like their mother.
Billy is TOTALLY exhausted.
He hasn't had 1 night of good sleep in 7 days.
Last night, he was up every hour.
His pain vacillates from a 4 - 9. More bad moments than good, but SOME good moments.
He takes very, VERY small steps forward each day.
Today, for instance, he sat up for a meal. He opened his eyes.
He has a slight "ICU delirium". No sleep, can't remember the day, doesn't know if it's day or night.
Doctor's assure me it will wear off.
Doctor's assure me that that's the drugs talking.
Older nurse, "He's smashed."
According to him, being smashed is kinda cool.
Me, "What do you see?"
B, "Not anything scary. Not zombies."
His own sarcasm is off the charts. Clearly he's frustrated and really attempting to regain control of his situation.
I see that as positive.
Billy, "Will you get me an ice pack for my head."
Nurse, "If you'd like that."
Billy takes ice pack. Says, "Shouldn't I have something warm instead...to make the blood flow better?"
Nurse, "If you'd like that."
Billy, annoyed, "Geesh! Why do I have to think of everything around here!"
Billy, "Shanna, where is my remote?"
Me, "Up by your shoulder."
Billy, loud, "Why do they put it there? It's like this whole hospital is built for midgets."
(Sorry for the use of the word midget)
And on and on my day goes.
They continue to do scans and sonograms and vein thingys and all other configuration of tests each day.
It all seems to be going in the right direction, all be it slowly.
If his pain can be managed a little better, they move him sometime this weekend to a regular room.
That will be good for him. And, us.
In the meantime,
For the meals, the gift cards, and the cash...
For my studio families who "donated" their piano lessons so I didn't have to come in or lose the income...
For the DLA student who took Victoria to coffee...
For my friend Paola who helped Elizabeth with her plane ticket...
For my friend Lynn who tracked down prayer cards from 15 years ago to mail to us -- after I expressed I was so desperately looking for my own set...
For my mother-in-law, who relieves me at the hospital (in a way that I can really trust)...
For my friend Ginny who sent me an email filled with scripture that so deeply spoke to me...you know...in a way only someone who's known you for a long time can do...
For my neighbor Lori who brought over bags of junk food for my kids...comfort food...
For my friends Rose and Rebecca who came over to finish my Jesse Tree ornaments...
For my sister who daily keeps my spirits up...
FOR ALL THE PRAYERS
And well, for a myriad of other things...
We are thankful to be taken care of...
Love to you all,