DAY 51: Guarded
Although her doctors are loath to admit it, Mom is steadily improving. The doctors continue saying she's doing better but that it's probably just random fluctuation and that they anticipate hitting a brick wall down the road. I understand that they need to be forthcoming with all possibilities.
However, we respectfully choose to look on the bright side. After all, a random fluctuation in the direction of improvement beats one in the direction of deterioration. It's a fact that since last week, she's gone from needing 100% oxygen support on her ventilator to needing just 45%. It's a fact that her temperature is down. It's a fact that she's requiring less sedative. These are positive developments, and we'll take them.
Another differing perspective comes from the doctors regarding Mom's time in I.C.U. They note, often and vehemently, that the longer a person hangs on in bed, the less likely they are to ever get out of that bed. Fair enough, but there's also the idea that she's fought this long, she's overcome this much, she's shown the mettle it's going to take for her to one day walk away from this situation back to where she belongs, among friends and family in the mountains.
What a day that will be, and it will come. I believe, we believe, that it will. We tell that to Mom, close to her ear while stroking her hair.
The doctors are just doing their jobs, and doing it well. But beyond the odds, beyond the historical evidence, beyond the interest of getting all the cards on the table, beyond the realism and cynicism and skepticism, there is a life trying to come back.
Believe, as we do, that it will. Remember that among the isms available to us is another, optimism, and it has paid off in my life more than the odds would have it.
Let us press on with optimism and hope, the prevailing sentiments of the season.
However, we respectfully choose to look on the bright side. After all, a random fluctuation in the direction of improvement beats one in the direction of deterioration. It's a fact that since last week, she's gone from needing 100% oxygen support on her ventilator to needing just 45%. It's a fact that her temperature is down. It's a fact that she's requiring less sedative. These are positive developments, and we'll take them.
Another differing perspective comes from the doctors regarding Mom's time in I.C.U. They note, often and vehemently, that the longer a person hangs on in bed, the less likely they are to ever get out of that bed. Fair enough, but there's also the idea that she's fought this long, she's overcome this much, she's shown the mettle it's going to take for her to one day walk away from this situation back to where she belongs, among friends and family in the mountains.
What a day that will be, and it will come. I believe, we believe, that it will. We tell that to Mom, close to her ear while stroking her hair.
You're doing well. You've come this far. Keep going. We're here to make it worth your while to survive this as you've survived so many other challenges in your life to now. Heaven isn't going anywhere. It'll be there in a few decades. Don't rush to it. Stay here. There's a lot more in store for you. We're here. Your friends are here. A legion of kindhearted strangers has proven that they're here, for you, and you'll have a chance to meet them. Breathe.
The doctors are just doing their jobs, and doing it well. But beyond the odds, beyond the historical evidence, beyond the interest of getting all the cards on the table, beyond the realism and cynicism and skepticism, there is a life trying to come back.
Believe, as we do, that it will. Remember that among the isms available to us is another, optimism, and it has paid off in my life more than the odds would have it.
Let us press on with optimism and hope, the prevailing sentiments of the season.
Posted by Jason Kelly | 6:30 PM
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