After taking the boys to school, I went and picked up some coffee and a bagel for my mom. I walked into the all too familiar 4A South wing of Mayo Clinic's Intensive Care Unit. I never really know what to expect - I walk down the hallways and can't help but look into the rooms as I pass, wondering what these people have been through, what is their story? My dad's room is all the way at the end of hallway. Every time I walk in I always see my mom, faithfully standing beside him. I was coming to check on him this morning and sit with him while my mom went to get a shower. Yesterday he had the surgery to remove the bone from his head, he will have quite the scar from that surgery. It goes from the middle of his head all the way around to just above his ear. My mom said that before all the swelling came from the surgery she could see his brain kinda of pulsating below the skin of his head. While I was sitting with him he woke a few times and lifted his head like he was looking for my mom, I told him that she was taking a shower and would be back soon, and in no time flat he was back to snoring again. He didn't seem as alert this morning, but with all that his body has been through in the past three days, I'm sure he needs a lot of rest. At one point he was moving his feet and lifting his head up to look at his feet and I asked him if he wanted to go driving and he nodded his head yes. I played Elton John's Philadelphia Freedom for him. He had that song on a cassette and would play it at 6:30 in the morning when he was driving me to high school...I could not stand that song back then....but today it didn't seem so bad! I remember calling my dad, just about daily asking how his brother was doing and one thing I remember him saying, that seems to help now, is the nurses talking about being in ICU and sometimes there are setbacks, but they are to be expected. My dad had a minor setback, but I still believe that he will push through. Setbacks pave the way for comebacks. The proof is, once again, in the pictures -- just before I was getting ready to leave the nurse came in and was asking him the hourly questions, "Vaughn, can you lift your left leg? good, now hold it. What about this right one? Vaughn can you lift your left arm, good. Can you squeeze my hand? good. What about your right hand, can you wiggle your fingers?" Then she took his hand out of the mitten it is in to prevent him from pulling the tube out of his nose, and then, right before my very eyes I saw him use his left arm to hold up his right arm. I told him that I was proud of him, something that he never hesitated to tell me. And all this was less than 24 hours of him having a portion of his skull removed to relieve pressure from swelling in his brain. My dad is amazing. My dad is a fighter. I love my dad so much.
After taking the boys to school, I went and picked up some coffee and a bagel for my mom. I walked into the all too familiar 4A South wing of Mayo Clinic's Intensive Care Unit. I never really know what to expect - I walk down the hallways and can't help but look into the rooms as I pass, wondering what these people have been through, what is their story? My dad's room is all the way at the end of hallway. Every time I walk in I always see my mom, faithfully standing beside him. I was coming to check on him this morning and sit with him while my mom went to get a shower. Yesterday he had the surgery to remove the bone from his head, he will have quite the scar from that surgery. It goes from the middle of his head all the way around to just above his ear. My mom said that before all the swelling came from the surgery she could see his brain kinda of pulsating below the skin of his head. While I was sitting with him he woke a few times and lifted his head like he was looking for my mom, I told him that she was taking a shower and would be back soon, and in no time flat he was back to snoring again. He didn't seem as alert this morning, but with all that his body has been through in the past three days, I'm sure he needs a lot of rest. At one point he was moving his feet and lifting his head up to look at his feet and I asked him if he wanted to go driving and he nodded his head yes. I played Elton John's Philadelphia Freedom for him. He had that song on a cassette and would play it at 6:30 in the morning when he was driving me to high school...I could not stand that song back then....but today it didn't seem so bad! I remember calling my dad, just about daily asking how his brother was doing and one thing I remember him saying, that seems to help now, is the nurses talking about being in ICU and sometimes there are setbacks, but they are to be expected. My dad had a minor setback, but I still believe that he will push through. Setbacks pave the way for comebacks. The proof is, once again, in the pictures -- just before I was getting ready to leave the nurse came in and was asking him the hourly questions, "Vaughn, can you lift your left leg? good, now hold it. What about this right one? Vaughn can you lift your left arm, good. Can you squeeze my hand? good. What about your right hand, can you wiggle your fingers?" Then she took his hand out of the mitten it is in to prevent him from pulling the tube out of his nose, and then, right before my very eyes I saw him use his left arm to hold up his right arm. I told him that I was proud of him, something that he never hesitated to tell me. And all this was less than 24 hours of him having a portion of his skull removed to relieve pressure from swelling in his brain. My dad is amazing. My dad is a fighter. I love my dad so much.
2 comments:
He has a great team to help him win this fight!
Thanking God for this great update. Thankful for excellent care bring provided
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