Like Driving Through A Desert

It occurred to me that I've been slacking on this. It hasn't been intentional. Being in New York has been a little tough. Scratch that. Let's not sugar coat. It's been HUGELY tough. Not because I don't have amazing friends supporting me. Not because my husband hasn't lived up to every single expectation I put on him the day we got married. Not because my work hasn't been absolutely hands-down the most understanding and comforting environment. And not because New York isn't a circus of distractions. But because I'm not there. I'm away from her, unable to stare at her, hear her, smell her, touch her. Instead I sit here feeling torn in two directions - the little kid who just wants her mom and the adult who needs to try and live her life because being a kid isn't an option anymore. And that battle leads to an empty space filled with an all too powerful imagination. But I started this blog to be your eyes and ears and that's what I'm going to do for you.

So.

She continues to get better a millimeter at a time. Progress feels slower without as many tangible milestones. It's like driving through the desert - you keep driving and driving, but you feel like you're getting nowhere. Oh look, MORE SAND. Are we there yet? They did another swallow test today and this time there was even less blue fluid. Huzzah! I know we're working toward "no fluid", but I don't know what happens once she passes this test. Does she eat? Does she get the trach out? Does she simply get a "I didn't aspirate blue fluid today and all I got was this shitty t-shirt" t-shirt? No idea. I do know that it's another large step toward rehab, so it's good. I can also report that she passed her cognitive test. Questions like "does New Years Day come before or after New Years Eve?" She missed one. And as she is a chronic over-achiever, I imagine that she has a millions reasons why her answer was in fact right and the doctor is just an idiot.

Lastly, the most exciting piece to me is that her sense of humor is as strong as ever. Feisty. Snarky. And sharp as a tack. No one is safe.

Not Dee...
Dee: "Pam, can you move you're left arm?" Mom: "And why would I want to do THAT?"

Not Dad...
Dad: "I'm so happy to see you, Pam." Mom: "Wait until you see the other Pam."

Not even Don Draper...
Me: "We had to fix Draper or else the adoption organization would take him back"
Mom: "Draper tries to get fixed every season. Doesn't stick."

And when I egged her on to say a rather inflammatory swear word, she responded with "Not in HOLY FAMILY Barrie" and then cackled. Touché.