Patrick's room has been in "isolation" since Wednesday morning because of the fact that he has meningitis. In order to visit him you have to dress in a gown, gloves, and facial mask before entering the room. The door is covered with red and white tape and numerous signs screaming the severity of his illness. It looks like a crime scene. For the last week he hasn't seen much more than blue masks and eyes. I have slept in his room since I got here, and even totally lucid and uninhibited by pharmaceuticals, waking up to nothing but eyes is horrifying. He doesn't remember anything between Monday afternoon and Thursday night, so hopefully he won't have crazy flashbacks of a sea of yellow gown clad, blue latex handed creatures. I know I hope I don't.
When the doctors made their first bout of rounds and evaluated Patrick Thursday morning they were very pleased with what they found. He was able to speak a little, and he could move his left hand. He had a little bit of a far away look in his eyes, but he would answer you with one or two words when you asked him things and he followed commands. His left side was much weaker than his right, but it was HUGE progress. About mid-morning they took him off of the CPAP and the nurses sat him up in a chair for a while. Mr. Bill and sat in the room with him while he sat. Patrick gazed at the TV in spite of the fact that there was no sound with this long far away look on his face, and after just a little while he started to get weak. Mr. Bill and I would call his name and keep him awake. He sat up for nearly two hours. I rubbed his head, and he rested it in my hand and fell asleep. I waved a nurse into his room, and they put him back to bed. They put him back on the CPAP machine, and he slept like a log for the next few hours. While he slept, Mr. Bill, Mrs. Noonie and I went and grabbed a bite to eat.
After lunch, we headed back upstairs and sat with Patrick. Most of the time he slept, and every so often he would open his eyes. He didn't really say much after his adventure of sitting in his chair. That just shows how sick he has been. Just sitting up for a few hours, put him in the bed to tired to talk for the rest of the day. He was able to take his CPAP off and use just the oxygen support from the high flow nasal canula for a few hours before he went to bed. As the night got later he seemed a little more like himself. I took out my cell phone right before he went to bed, and showed him a few pictures that Momma sent me of Cameron and a video of her singing "Old McDonald." That really seemed to perk him up, and then at 11:00 they put the mask back on, and he was off to sleep. I settled down in my cot, pulled the covers over me and slept harder than I have in a week. I was starting to see the Patrick I knew, and that put so much peace in my heart. I could finally rest (somewhat) at ease. I know that Friday will bring even more good news.
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