Awakening...

Dear Charming,

Two days after being told you were in a vegetative state, I went home to spend an evening with our kids. I kissed the top of your head and told you to fight your way back to me. I can't count the times that I had done this. I set up a CD player with a CD of our songs so that even when I wasn't in the room, which was almost always, you could feel my presence. I called the hospital often to check on you only to be told that you were ok, but there had been no change.

Discouraged, I went to bed sobbing. "Please give me a sign that I'm doing the right thing," I begged. You and I had very explicit instructions with each other. If ever something were to happen to one of us, if we'd never come back, don't hold on. But if there was a chance, fight on. I never in a million years believed that I would have to make that kind of decision. Never did I dream that that promise I once made you would be put to the test. Now I had a doctor telling me that you were in a vegetative state, and even though I knew he was wrong, I needed to know I was doing right by you. I knew in my heart you wouldn't want to leave us, but was I holding on for me, or was I doing the right thing for you? I had told the doctor if I had to wheel you on to It's a Small World for the rest of my life, I was prepared to do it... so long as you were here, knew me and our kids and could live a fulfilling life and be an active part of ours. "Please give me a sign." I spent several evenings during the nurse shift change at the hospital crying in the chapel. Now here I was at home with our kids, falling apart and begging for anything to hold onto so that I knew I was doing the right thing.

Day twelve, I awoke exhausted. Having cried myself to sleep, I tossed and turned. Instinctively, I reached for my phone and dialed TICU. Jennifer, your nurse for the day, answered the phone. "How's my sweetheart?" I asked, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. "He's moving," she told me. They had sat you up to change the position in the bed, and you had started moving your legs... very purposefully. You fought to get the podus boot off. You'd cross your legs to make yourself more comfortable. No, you weren't awake... no, you weren't talking. However, you were showing signs of higher brain function.... Message received. I fight on.

On day 15, the physical therapist called out your name and past the trach in your throat, you spoke... "What?" You were waking up. I had yet to hear you talk for myself, but when I would ask you for a kiss, you would pucker up your lips for me. Your eyes remained closed, but it was the start of something. The next night, after the nurse shift change, I was about to change into my pajamas and told you I would be in the bathroom, but would be right back. I asked for a kiss, and you puckered. I kissed you softly and said "I love you so much," as I lay my head on your chest. And that's when it happened. Past the trach you said, "I love you too" These were the first words I had heard from you in 16 days. I couldn't cry, I could't breathe, I just gasped and looked at you. Had I heard that right? I ran into the bathroom to change my clothes, holding onto the wall to keep my legs from collapsing under me. I sent Skyler a message on facebook, and sent a text message to Phyllis. I went back into your room and told you I was going to get into my recliner and try to get ready for bed. "I love you" I told you, knowing it was too good to be true to expect another response, but I got one. "I love you, too" you said again. My heart just about burst. The day of the accident, "I love you" had been the last words you had spoken to me and words I had feared I'd never hear you say again. I had confirmation. Whatever road lay ahead, I did the right thing... and you were fighting to come back to me.

I love you

Snow