I had prepared myself for my friend's death. He had two separate, complicated surgeries on his brain during the first week in December. Blood clots likely caused by falls on cement and tile were pressing ("smothering") his brain. After the surgery, he was able to blink, but that was it. He could not speak or control his bodily functions. The hospital staff could not tell if he recognized anyone or anything when his eyes were open so he was, effectively, in a coma. He spent his birthday, Christmas and New Year's this way.
Suddenly, last week, he came out of it! When hospital staff asked him* to make a fist, he did. When his husband Reg told Henry he loved him, Henry responded by pursing his lips in a kiss. He has been moved from his bed to a wheelchair, and while he doesn't cooperate he also doesn't resist, which is progress.
He still hasn't spoken and has a trach and feeding tube. He can't dress himself or control his bladder/bowels. But his vitals are so strong that he is scheduled to be released from the hospital in 10 days.
I don't know his prognosis because Reg is not interested in sharing that. All he posts about is how hard this has been on him emotionally, how much he hates God,† and how difficult it is for him to find a facility to take Henry upon his release.
I could have guessed all of that. I'd like to know if Henry is going to continue to improve, if I can ever hear my friend's voice again. But Reg is drinking and simply unable to put anyone else's concerns ahead of his own. I do not like this, of course, but I get it. Unfortunately, in this marriage, there are two patients: one with severe neurological challenges and one dealing with addiction.
Right now, the important thing is that Henry is NOT going home. Reg is incapable of caring for him. My friend belongs in a facility where professionals will be vigilant.
And now I have hope. I keep thinking of Emily Dickinson's poem about how hope is the thing with feathers that sings the song without words and never stops.I had prepared myself for Henry to leave the hospital and go to a crematorium. Instead he is going to a facility for around-the-clock care. I once didn't think this was possible. Now I'm just wondering what God and Henry will come up with next.
*In English. This is important. Henry woke up on Thanksgiving unable to speak or comprehend English, only Spanish.
†The angriest of these posts has been removed. I think Reg's mother expressed how much it hurt her.