The haircut seems like an innocuous thing, but sitting in that barber's chair, I was reminded that a haircut was part of our Saturday plans two weeks ago, the day Emily was admitted to the hospital. It is hard to believe that your whole world can change in two weeks.
This morning, as I sat with Emily, she signed to me these words: "I took things for granted." It broke my heart to hear her say that.
Her breathing has not improved enough to get off of the ventilator yet. This has been her goal for the last 4 days. Every morning she tries her hardest on her breathing test, and so far every morning the doctors have decided that it's not yet time. When I first see her she is hopeful, when she hears the news I watch that hope slowly drain away throughout the day.
This evening we decided that removing the ventilator would be a great outcome, but it's a lousy goal. We came to the realization that perhaps we've been focusing on the wrong thing. Her new goal is to be stronger each day than the day before. If she needs the vent to do this, well then there it is. If, as a result of her improving health, the ventilator is no longer needed, then that's an excellent result, but we're trying not to focus on it as a goal, because as a goal it has been elusive and discouraging.
One last word. This evening I told her I didn't know what to write on here, and asked if she had anything to say. It took her a long time to get all of this out so I'll end with Emily's words verbatim: "I feel so loved and supported by all of you. Thank you, and please take care of Jim." (I told her I wasn't going to add the last part but she made me promise.)
