Michael - Day 2

He seems to be doing a bit better today. He was using the pain med pump a little less often (and so, by this afternoon when I was there for the second time today, he was a little more lucid). He got up (with help) and walked around three times today. He seemed a little more restful - still falling asleep in mid-sentence, but staying asleep for longer periods. He had some clear fluids by mouth today. He did develop a fever which fluctuated throughout the day, and I don't think they determined the cause. They did a chest x-ray to rule out pneumonia (always a concern for someone who is mostly bedridden after surgery), which was clear. I think they were going to run some other tests to rule out infection, but the nurse didn't seem too concerned, so I'm trying not to be too concerned either.

It's hard to believe, seeing him in this condition, that it's possible that in a few more days he might actually be improved enough to be released. It's hard to imagine that right now, but I guess the possibility - even the likelihood - is there. At least that's what the nurses tell me.

It makes me think back on Finn's initial surgery the day after he was born, too. A somewhat similar surgery. I see how much pain Michael is in, how difficult this is for him, and it horrifies me to imagine that that's the kind of pain Finn experienced as a newborn baby. Maybe it's different for the very young, maybe they're more resilient, quicker to recover and heal. I don't know. I just know that in some ways this feels like deja vu, like the reliving of a certain nightmare.

I miss Michael so much. I miss his conversation, I miss his laughter, his goofiness, his way with the kids, the feeling of safety I have with him. I feel useless when I go to the hospital. He mostly sleeps. I'd like to think that my just being there is helping him somehow, but I don't know. I come home and there's still all the usual things that have to be taken care of, which in a way is a good distraction, and in a way just leaves me feeling alone. I'm trying to be a "big girl," but it's sometimes overwhelming and sometimes feels like "who the hell left me in charge?" I know this is all temporary, and I keep kicking myself for being so full of self-pity over it all, but damn, this is all just really hard.

The kids miss him too. Throughout the day - especially when they're not getting their way about something - the girls whine over and over "I want Daaaaaddddeeeee." Actually, they do this even when he's not in the hospital - I'm sure it's just typical childhood manipulation and emotional blackmail - but it's just all the more unbearable right now.

Anyway, so, yeah, he did seem a bit improved today. Tomorrow a little more, hopefully. Day by day.