Hugs

Today has been another great day for my Dad. He is the most alert I have seen him and was very congenial and communicative. He stood with physical therapy and was able to shuffle his feet back and forth a few times. He is making great strides and will be a great candidate for rehab soon.

I was technically working today (I am a clinical nurse in labor and delivery one floor below my Dad), but it was a slow day so I ran up and down the stairs as many times as I could without getting fired, which it turns out... is a lot. This morning they took him for another CT scan of his head since he has been very lethargic in the afternoons. The results were all positive. He still has some swelling in his lateral ventricles, but the hemorrhage has decreased a little bit more. He is making positive steps to recover from this horrible tragedy and I am so grateful for the miraculous nature of the human body.

I did not share this story earlier because I was so broken hearted initially, but a few days ago my Dad had not responded to me whatsoever during my three hour visit.When I was leaving, I took his face in my hands and said, "Dad, I want you to let me know that you know me. I'm going to hug you and I just want you to move your hand a little to hug me back. I will help you." I laid my head against his chest and watched for any sign of effort, any small urge to prove he knew me, and that he loved me. He didn't even move a finger. For those of you who know him, this is so out of his character. My dad is a hugger and he frequently shows affection for his children in this manner. I reminded myself repeatedly that this process was not about me and that it is NOT his job to make ME feel better. The hurt was there nonetheless.This morning, I asked him again. I cautiously laid my head down on his shoulder and my Dad brought both arms around my back and squeezed with as much energy as he could muster. I could feel the warmth of his body and the familiar beating of his heart and that hug meant more to me than any other ever has.

The rest of the day has been spent with his family members. Both Ryan and Melissa are down in Salt Lake today and I know that makes him so happy. He loves all of his siblings so much and I know they will be such a huge part of his recovery. This afternoon Grandma and Grandpa were looking at him via Skype and we were discussing his need to learn sign language as he is still not able to communicate verbally. My Dad showed his extensive sign language abilities by raising both hands in a very offensive gesture (think middle fingers). We all laughed and I was so happy to see my Dad's personality is still very much alive.

Today an elderly couple came by the nurse's station to pass the sacrament. I happily obliged. In the room, the wife passed me a piece of paper that brought me to tears and I would like to share it here:

"It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us... if we put our trust in Him, if we pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers". - Gordon B. Hinckley 

This statement is true. It has been three weeks since the vessel in my Dad's brain leaked blood through his brain stem and stole away our world. Three weeks. I have had moments of faith and moments of doubt. But I know that God is aware of me, and that he is so aware of my Dad. I will never know why this happened, I don't need to. I just need to continue to have faith that miracles happen and that he can heal. My Dad will stand to hug me again someday. I know I will feel the strength in his arms around me many more times throughout my life, that he will again comfort me in times of need and that knowledge brings me so much peace and comfort.