Moving closer to the door

Friday brought great progress. For the first time since we arrived in Houston, Patrick seemed like himself. He woke up with absolutely no memory of the previous week. He said that the last thing he remembered was dropping his wallet when he got to the ER, and someone handing it back to him. We gave him the run down of the weeks "adventure." He asked a few questions that to us seemed kind of funny. "So am I going to need to reschedule my appointments for my MRI and to meet with Dr. Levine and Dr. Kupferman?" We all laughed a little, and let him know that he had seem them both numerous times since he checked in, and he had already had a CT scan, MRI, x-rays, and lots of blood work. He seemed a little skeptical which was pretty funny too. We told him that at one point when asked what year it was he missed it by a mile, and that he had been sitting pretty close to death's door for a few days. I reminded him that if he ever scared me like that again; he would need a doctor :) I tried to get him whatever he needed or wanted, and when he jokingly called me a nag, I knew he was back.

A little before lunch the nurses got Patrick up into a chair and he sat up for about two hours. Unlike Thursday, he didn't fall asleep sitting straight up. He watched a little TV, and then they moved him back to the bed. Mrs. Noonie, Mr. Bill, and I went to grab some lunch and let Patrick get some sleep.

After we ate, we sat in the waiting room for a while so not to disturb him. There were several families that we have been sitting with in the waiting room this week. The patients that they were there with were not doing well at all. Over the last week we have laughed together, cried together, prayed together, and just shot the breeze together. We celebrated with a family who's dad was in kidney failure due to his cancer when his body started producing urine. I sat and held the hand of a woman who's daughter was only 44 and not expected to make it. The daughter was diagnosed with cancer a month ago, and there wasn't much that the doctors could do for her. They wanted to take her home so she could spend her last little while with her 17 year old son and family, but she was to sick to. CCU is where success is measured in urine output, and O2 saturation. Where odds are can be counted in white counts and milligrams of pain meds. It is truly where joy and sorrow meet.

Late Friday evening we hit a huge milestone - moving to a room on the floor. "Moving on up. To the [11th floor]." The nurses removed is perriffial IV lines, pulled off his numerous electronic monitors, and sent us to the floor. Four floors up and one step closer to home.