I didn’t sleep much last night. After mom and I talked for two hours and me just being wound up and still on Arizona time, well, sleep just didn’t come. My mom didn’t sleep either.
My mind raced all night long, mom tried her best to prepare me for what I was going to see when we went into the hospital. I’m not going into graphic detail here, I’ll just say there were lots of machines and wires and tubes. Surgery was performed when my dad arrived in the hospital to relieve pressure in his head.
I went in and told my dad I was there and I pray that he heard me. The nurses assured me that he did.
The doctors say the first 72 hours are crucial and we’re down more than 24 already. So far there is no response from dad. Not to verbal commands, no pain reflexes or to light. Every two hours, around the clock they try to get him to respond and each time my heart breaks a little more because we’re not gaining any ground here.
Relatives came in and out all day long. They weren’t holding us to immediate family which to me was telling in itself.
My brother and I are well aware that there is very little hope for a response from dad. My mom is talking about when when he comes home,,,,when he wakes up.We don’t say it out loud because then it will make it true and I don’t think any of us are ready for this. I know I’m not. My sister-in-law is a nurse practitioner so I’m sure she’s sharing her knowledge with Billy. I know in my heart what’s coming but I don’t allow myself to go there too much.
Mom and I left around seven. Spending all day in the hospital is exhausting. We stare at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of an eyelid fluttering or fingers moving.
And we talk to him. A lot. He’s hearing us and he’s fighting his way out of this coma, that’s what I tell myself. That’s what I pray for but I think God has other plans for my dad.
This is so incredibly hard.