Twas the Tuesday before Christmas

...and all through Chez Vinny...I got nothing. I thought I could cutesy it up, but I'm spent. Perhaps it's from the shock and awe after seeing my father for the first time in 3 weeks.

He looks incredible. His face is completely normal. His eyelids flutter. He opens his right eye fully when stimulated (or rather, when he's being turned from side to side). His arm and hand muscles are rewiring, because he moves them constantly. He squeezes my hands and brushes his thumb/index finger together in circular motions, as if he's feeling a fabric for texture. He'll kick his legs ever so slowly if he's stimulated enough. All great things, right? Sort of.

While these are all wonderful signs, they aren't necessarily indicative of where he is mentally. But that's ok- we can let his body heal everywhere from the neck down while we observe and report on the brain progress.

So here's where we stand:
While these improvements are all reasons for me to do a happy dance, there's still an infinite amount on information we don't have on his brain status. SSH is a great facility, but it's for acute care, and soon Dad won't need or be able to be here anymore. He's not ready for rehab yet (while he does squeeze my hand, he isn't able to follow it as a command, or any other basic command), so we must start looking for another facility to move him to until he's ready for rehab. I met with the case worker today and learned about our responsibilities through the process, and will be scouting locations during my stay here.

Mom and I are here every day, and will be here for the Christmas holidays. There's no place I'd rather be.

One more piece of great news- his breathing is great! The resp therapist was planning on "capping him off" today. No, that's not a gun reference. He wanted to remove the breathing tube from Dad's trach and cover the end with a cap to let him completely breath on his own (cue the wows, hurrays and whoopees). But Dad's been producing lots of fluid from his lungs today (seeing it is just as lovely as it sounds, btw), so he decided to wait. They expect to be able to cap him in a matter of days.

Again, there's a fine line between hope and delusion. It's a tightrope, really, and we walk it daily without a balance bar.

I've got to change the music in Dad's iPod and decide which cookies I'll be baking for the nursing staff, so I'm out for now. More updates soon. Make sure Dad's on your list for Santa and let's hope he gets the point.