Can you believe it's been seven years?

One of my favorite posts from that time:

Overheard in ICU today

Michael:  I want to get these fucking tubes outta me.

Vicki:  You've got to leave the fucking tubes in.

Mom:  I don't like it when you two use the F-word.

This was after he'd already removed the Foley catheter once (ow) and had to have it replaced, was caught with a leg over the siderail of the bed, trying to "escape", and told his best friend to go get the car.  "Let's you and me go for a ride, Paulie."

I think the wild ride portion of this recovery program is underway.

It wasn't even close to over then. I don't think that wild ride has ever really ended!

I love you, Michael!! XO

 

It's one we like to call…

Celebrate Michael Day!

We are lucky to have him. And he'll be celebrating a milestone birthday come St. Paddy's day, too!

Love you, bro. XO

 

Today… Michael. Five years ago, if you can believe that! I can't… five years ago this very minute, he was in ICU and we waited and worrried… which continued for several weeks… months. It could have turned out very differently five years ago today, so we celebrate… my brother. I'm happy things went as they did.

Love you, Mikey. XO

…he's my brother.  Four years ago, we wondered whether a scene like this would ever happen again — even if we didn't speak or acknowledge such thoughts amongst (or to) ourselves, they were there.  You don't look at a 6'4" guy in an ICU hospital bed, watch the rise and fall of a respirator and listen to beeping monitors without regularly batting away such thoughts.

He made it.  Yay Michael!!  We love ya, bro.

I just called my brother to tell him how happy I am that he's here.

   

 

He's over 6 feet tall and was driving that "car," so you can see why we're happy that he's here.  Three years ago today, he was rear-ended by a semi-truck (visible in the background of the top two photos) while waiting to make a left-hand turn on his way to work; the semi pushed him into the path of an oncoming pickup truck.  He was conscious when they pulled him from the wreck for the helicopter ride to the hospital.  Emergency brain surgery soon followed, though, and it was quite a rollercoaster ride over the next several weeks for all of us!  I've never posted these pictures before — the first three were taken by the helicopter pilot, I think, the fourth nabbed from the local paper.  (I should be flogged, but tell me you wouldn't have.)  I saw the helicopter on its way to the scene on my way to work that morning — I always noticed them because my uncle was a flight nurse at the time (thankfully, on vacation that day).  I blogged many of the ups and downs over the following weeks; click "Michael" under Categories in the sidebar for the rest of the story.

 

Forces rallied and the most awesome Christine gathered squares for blankets — for both her brother and mine — and sent it to me by Mother's Day that year.  Michael dubbed it the Knitblogger Blanket of Love, and it couldn't be more true — every stitch infused with special healing powers to keep him warm and remind him how much he is loved.

And they all lived happily ever after.

xo