December 16th
Dear All
Each day looks a bit better and Greg can move his head and hands a bit more. Today he actually made it, with the assistance of two nurses, over to the chair in the corner of his room, where he was able to sit for about half an hour. As of this morning the only tubes still attached to him (at first there were so many!) is the “drip,” which will remain until he is able to start eating properly on his own. Aside from the nausea and a throat still sore from tubes, having no feeling in most of his tongue and one full side of his face means that he “looses” food over on that side, and then chokes on it. So, so much to learn.
When the neurosurgeon came in today he was quite sober. “We did all we could, but it was not a good situation, you understand,” he said. His face revealed that he is feeling bad for Greg, even though Greg put on a really cheery face for him. Typical Greg: he is worried about the doctor feeling too bad for something that no one had control over. But it was the doctor’s own face and attempted words of encouragement that made me cry for the first time since the surgery. He wanted to make sure that we understood that it will be quite some time before we know how much of the paralyzed half of Greg’s face will return to normal, if at all. And that there will be much hard work in the months ahead. He also indicated that we should know by Monday or Tuesday when it is that Greg moves from the hospital here to the rehab one in Briançon. It will be great to know, as right now we have no idea where we will be for Christmas (Grenoble or Briançon), let alone by the time Greg’s parents are here (a few days later).
The days each seem an eternity for Greg. I remember this from my own post-surgery days. It will be better when he can focus or concentrate, for then there will be people and things to distract him. But right now, even when someone else is talking, he is hard pressed to follow more than a few sentences at a time. He sort of fades in and out (he can’t even concentrate enough to look at pictures right now). It will still be a few more days before he is up to really engaging with visitors. But a few tips for those who live in the Grenoble area and might visit: remember Greg can’t see much or hear at all from the right side (of the bed), so please come around to the far side (his left side) of the bed. As he is overly sensitive to all sensory input, please try to keep your voices very quiet and calm, and, as it is hard for him at times to follow and concentrate, speak slowly. If you are not loud enough he will let you know. Right now he is not up to more than a five to ten minute visit – but don’t feel like that is a waste of time, being so short. That will give him enough stimulation for a couple of hours. Also, Greg is very sensitive to touch. Sometimes he can handle the stimulus of gentle stroking, but often no more than a touch, if that.
Greg looks forward to my reading the get-well and Christmas cards than come in the post each day. Sometimes he is up to looking at the pictures on the front of the card, sometimes not. But they all go on the wall, so that when he is able to focus better, they will be there, cheering him on.
This morning he thought he overheard someone say than his case was a bit of a “catastrophe.” Whether that is actually true or not, it is not a great thing for him to have floating around in his head. It is a strange thing, going into the hospital seemingly in good heath and physical form, and then having an operation which make you seem much worse rather than much better … but we know that had he not had the surgery, he wouldn’t have been alive in a few months. And, it seems, if he had had to wait even a couple of months longer, his right limbs would have been paralyzed as well. Knowing such things changes one’s perspective.
The “jazz man” in the next bed has gone home now, and it is wonderful to have the room to ourselves now.
Sharon is helping me to work through the phone messages right now – so if you asked for a ring back, you might hear from her rather than from me. With just a little time in the mornings and at night before bed, I’m slow at catching up on anything – and right now I am just trying to be with Greg as much as possible. So forgive the lack of phone messages – hopefully this blog will serve as a replacement for at least a few more days.
With continued thanks and love – and always with hope – Sola Gratia, Kirstin.
Each day looks a bit better and Greg can move his head and hands a bit more. Today he actually made it, with the assistance of two nurses, over to the chair in the corner of his room, where he was able to sit for about half an hour. As of this morning the only tubes still attached to him (at first there were so many!) is the “drip,” which will remain until he is able to start eating properly on his own. Aside from the nausea and a throat still sore from tubes, having no feeling in most of his tongue and one full side of his face means that he “looses” food over on that side, and then chokes on it. So, so much to learn.
When the neurosurgeon came in today he was quite sober. “We did all we could, but it was not a good situation, you understand,” he said. His face revealed that he is feeling bad for Greg, even though Greg put on a really cheery face for him. Typical Greg: he is worried about the doctor feeling too bad for something that no one had control over. But it was the doctor’s own face and attempted words of encouragement that made me cry for the first time since the surgery. He wanted to make sure that we understood that it will be quite some time before we know how much of the paralyzed half of Greg’s face will return to normal, if at all. And that there will be much hard work in the months ahead. He also indicated that we should know by Monday or Tuesday when it is that Greg moves from the hospital here to the rehab one in Briançon. It will be great to know, as right now we have no idea where we will be for Christmas (Grenoble or Briançon), let alone by the time Greg’s parents are here (a few days later).
The days each seem an eternity for Greg. I remember this from my own post-surgery days. It will be better when he can focus or concentrate, for then there will be people and things to distract him. But right now, even when someone else is talking, he is hard pressed to follow more than a few sentences at a time. He sort of fades in and out (he can’t even concentrate enough to look at pictures right now). It will still be a few more days before he is up to really engaging with visitors. But a few tips for those who live in the Grenoble area and might visit: remember Greg can’t see much or hear at all from the right side (of the bed), so please come around to the far side (his left side) of the bed. As he is overly sensitive to all sensory input, please try to keep your voices very quiet and calm, and, as it is hard for him at times to follow and concentrate, speak slowly. If you are not loud enough he will let you know. Right now he is not up to more than a five to ten minute visit – but don’t feel like that is a waste of time, being so short. That will give him enough stimulation for a couple of hours. Also, Greg is very sensitive to touch. Sometimes he can handle the stimulus of gentle stroking, but often no more than a touch, if that.
Greg looks forward to my reading the get-well and Christmas cards than come in the post each day. Sometimes he is up to looking at the pictures on the front of the card, sometimes not. But they all go on the wall, so that when he is able to focus better, they will be there, cheering him on.
This morning he thought he overheard someone say than his case was a bit of a “catastrophe.” Whether that is actually true or not, it is not a great thing for him to have floating around in his head. It is a strange thing, going into the hospital seemingly in good heath and physical form, and then having an operation which make you seem much worse rather than much better … but we know that had he not had the surgery, he wouldn’t have been alive in a few months. And, it seems, if he had had to wait even a couple of months longer, his right limbs would have been paralyzed as well. Knowing such things changes one’s perspective.
The “jazz man” in the next bed has gone home now, and it is wonderful to have the room to ourselves now.
Sharon is helping me to work through the phone messages right now – so if you asked for a ring back, you might hear from her rather than from me. With just a little time in the mornings and at night before bed, I’m slow at catching up on anything – and right now I am just trying to be with Greg as much as possible. So forgive the lack of phone messages – hopefully this blog will serve as a replacement for at least a few more days.
With continued thanks and love – and always with hope – Sola Gratia, Kirstin.
posted by Kirstin Jeffrey Johnson | 10:57 pm
5 Comments:
Hey Kirstin, I just want to confirm that the blog is a very good way of getting information to all the people that want to be there!! Don't worry about writing anything else, just take care of Greg and yourself.
We love you!!
Chelle & Dave
Dear Kirstin,
Please give my love to Greg. Thank you for keeping up with the blog and giving us so much news. Have been thinking and praying for you both.
Lots of love,
Annie
Hi Kirstin Just caught up with the blog. Thinking of you both. Lots of love. The Smalls xxx
Kirstin, thanks for these updates. It sure allows us to pray more effectively. Our prayer now is that Greg will be completely paralysis-free. I'm gonna try and contact some other NABC friends as well to solicit their prayers and to put them in touch with this blog.
Dan and Mar
Dear Kirstin,
We follow the blog everyday, and are encouraged to hear that Greg is going home tomorrow, just in time for Christmas. We are glad you will be in your new home as he recovers. We send our wishes for courage and strength in the recuperation period ahead.
Love, Linda & Glenn
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