After a short over night stay in SWEET Kingman, AZ due to the snowstorm, my little family and I finally made it to SLC to visit Adam in person. I was anxious to see him with my own eyes. I walked into his room, and instantly burst into tears. But I turned around so I could get composed and put on my "game face." My brave face. I am certain it was better for everyone I was in Arizona until now. I don't know they could have handled my blubbering.
Adam has ups and downs. He was feeling well yesterday. The physical and occupational therapists worked with him a lot in getting out of bed. He even walked around the hospital hall with assistance from the sturdy splint and his "old man Farley" walker. (If you know Adam, that last sentence needs no explanation.)
He still has the NG tube. Something he is very discouraged about. There was concern he may have an ileus, pronounced ill-E-us. Meaning a portion of his bowl is not functioning, or the tissue had died, either due to the trauma, or his surgery. The NG tube is still pumping out WAY too much fluid from his tummy. So he went for another CT scan, this time with contrast, to see if everything was moving the way it was suppossed to. And the good news is, everything looked fine. He's still in the ICU. That won't change until the tube can be removed, and it's not looking like it will be anytime soon.
Nights are a lot harder for Adam. My mom and I walked into his room this morning in the middle of what we could tell was an awful nightmare. We woke him up to panic and tears and confusion. It seems this happens everytime he falls asleep. The nightmares. He is reliving the accident over and over and over. In his dreams. It's emotionally exhausting. And physically draining, because he never gets a decent amount of sleep.
I saw Adam's scar from surgery today. It goes from the top of his sternum, all the way down about 4 inches below his belly button. And it's closed up with 40 staples. Not 39. Not 41. 40. He counted. Twice. I asked to take a picture, and I'll post it tomorrow. Along with some of his other battle wounds.
Coming home for Christmas is looking more and more like a lofty goal. We may end up bringing Christmas to ICU room 15 this year. But its still a little too early to tell.
And thank you for the continued cards, flowers, calls, thoughts and prayers. It truly brightens Adams spirit, and gives him the strength to keep fighting.