Day 8: Good lord this is rough...

Mom's fentanyl drip (pain medication) is down to 65 now (she had been up to 150) and she's still comfortable. But now she's more awake and trying to communicate with us. She has that blasted tube in her throat still, so we can't read her lips. At all. The nurses gave us a communication board, but frankly it's a little ridiculous what they have on that board. Christy bought a board for her iPad, so we tried it that way (rows of letters, asking her which row and then which letter). We got to K-I and the second row (where there's an L), then we both had a panic attack when we thought trying to say "kill me". She clearly shook her head "NO!".  Jesus... you should have seen the look on our faces when it occurred to us that she might be trying to say that!

This is probably the most she's been awake in the last week, so she's getting tired and SOOOOO frustrated with us right now. I seriously hope that darn tube comes out tomorrow.

Eye opening moment for the day: Dr. Israbian said that she had less than a 5% chance of survival last Thursday. She's come a really long way since then, but she still has a really long road of recovery ahead of her.

Positive news: she is able to move her arms around way better now. She isn't able to grip (she wanted to try to write, but that didn't work), but she did try to point to the letters on the iPad. She can very slowly raise her arm and try to point to the iPad, but it takes a while for her to do it.

Funny moment... One of us (won't say who) farted while standing next to the bed, then apologized for doing it right next to her, laughing. She actually smiled around the tube.... or maybe it was a grimace. I'm going with positive: it was a smile.