The Blog of mamapolo

Dear Friends:

I just read HappySailor's comment on my last blog, about a group of men in another state requesting intercession for my husband, and I am truly overcome with a sense of gratitude, blessing and yes, mysticism.

The doctors had planned to allow him a few days' rest after the tracheostomy yesterday before beginning to "aggressively wean him off the ventilator."

The problem is that the longer a ventilator is breathing FOR a person, the less likely it is that they will be able to breathe for themselves. I was also cautioned to expect some dramatic upset and agitation when the ventilator was turned off, because that is the normal reaction of most patients.

This morning, though, he was doing so well in general that they altered course and decided to 'try' him off the ventilator.

With the doctor (a gentle, kind, patrician-looking man) on one side of the bed and me on the other, holding his hand, they switched off the ventilator.

What an anti-climax! Tennis anyone?

He never missed a stride. Seriously. Five minutes later the doctor slipped a little 'speaker' thingie into the trach tube (much like the squeaker you find when your dog tears open a stuffed animal) and my husband said "Hello" for the first time in more than a week.

Then he said, "Thank you, doctor," and the doctor said, "Don't thank me," and pointed across the bed to me. "Thank her - she's been here all day every day WILLING you to come through this, and I have to tell you, I think that's why you have."

I said, "No, it wasn't my will. It was God's. And a hundred friends and family praying their hearts out."

And my husband told me he loved me. Like I didn't know that.

He doesn't remember any of the last eight days, and we had the cheerful conversation about the successful lung surgery and the positive statements of the doctors about that. I didn't think it necessary to fill him in yet about the pneumonia, and the code on Wednesday...there's time enough for that over a glass of sweet tea on the patio some day.

After we filled him in about the surgery and that things are looking pretty good, he said, "Will I be able to play the violin?"

The doctor blinked, and I laughed and told him he was a corny cuss.

If I could reach you all, I would hug you until YOU needed a ventilator.

Mamapolo