Part 12 - My little lady's health journey continued...

On Thursday June 9, 2005 four weeks into my wife's battle and recovery from flesh eating disease my girl was going through extensive therapy. A funny story: the physotherpist working with her apologised for mumbling. She had asked my wife if she wanted a rest and it was understood that she was asking her if she wanted to wrestle. My wife responded by saying don’t worry; I live with one of those, ``a mumbler``.  Her whit at that point was a mixture of her own and the impact of drugs.
In the evening she was very confused, she would see things in the room that were not there such as things flying around or people. I would explain that this was the drugs and try and bring her back to reality. No body was there to coach us caretakers, we just reacted as best as we could to the situation.
She breathed on her own during the day and for the first time at night. This was a huge milestone. Still I was prodding her about seeing the kids. She had now missed a whole month of our daughters 3 month life. I knew that my wife and our son would reconnect, but even that was a big concern. When I asked her about the kids visiting, she said she was thinking about seeing them, but was not ready yet. It was so hard to see her like this, so emotionless.

On Friday June 10 I asked her again about seeing the kids and explained the benefits, bonding, etc, and she finally said she was ready. After much thought and prayer, knowing full well that others were not sure it was a good idea, I brought our son in, believing that God would make it a good visit. Although I seem to have a habit of going against the grain it hurts me deeply when I feel that I am going against someones will. This is me though, a guy who trys to follow his convictions. My wife responded to seeing him with a big smile. She reached out to hold him but he was not ready for that. She thoroughly enjoyed the visit but requested that seeing our daughter be postponed. Her reactions with our son had been very mechanical compared to the relationship I knew they had shared. My son had probably been scared too of this strange environment and this person who only partly resembled his loving mother.
When asked if she wanted to go on a date that night, she said yes but she might sleep. Again still very confused she tried to dip a sponge stick (to moisten her mouth) into my shirt thinking it was water. She was no longer on any off life support. Praise God. She now didn't have any tubes or tracheotomy restricting her communication, The preliminary neurological exam proved OK, but was kind of a joke. My wife greeted momma Ruppert by saying hi momma, her typical greeting to my mom. Momma gave my girl her 1^st sip of water in a month. Still confused, my girl wondered where I would pick her up for our date. She told the Nurse that she had to get changed for the date. Very cute!

On Saturday June 11 my girl was mad at me because I would only give her so much water (was doing as directed by staff June 10). She asked for her dad several times during the day. 
She requested no company after 5pm, she wanted to see her dad and then that’s it. I had no idea what was going through her mind, was she starting to figure things out, was it time to tell her. There were so many things for me to think about. Contrary to what most people think you are mostly left on your own to sort things out. The medics take care of the big physical health items and you are left to fill in all of the gaps and there were a lot. I checked in at 7:45pm and she reiterated her request. I obliged and went to dairy queen with my sister. My outings were rare but needed. The hospital is a depressing place to be for any length of time.
Physiotherapy at that point was happy with my wife's progress, she was rolling on her side with much effort but by herself, a huge accomplishment.

I was still trying to invest as much time as was possible in the lives of my kids and wife. It was unbelievably hard though. Additionally others who cared for us wanted updates and so on. A huge blessing was that God gave me great sleep in the hospital, even on a pathetic chair in a small room. I would set the room up for bed after 9 and in the morning have to return it to order as a visiting room. At that time I was not thinking of my own well being, but this was all taking its emotional toll. There was little normalcy, no purely enjoying my blue eyed son and hazel eyed daughter and what kind of relationship my wife and I could have was in question. What quality of life could she lead, no one knew for sure. The neurological exam had been a joke consisting of answering a few basic questions.

plum in my arms

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