lakotapixel

Karl and I dropped Mom off at the hospital, got some Starbucks and went to the police station at 1331 Cherokee Street. I picked up Kif’s Colorado ID, and other personal belongings: cigarettes, lighter, ear plugs, cell phone battery. This was the one day off I took

We went to Watercourse for lunch, but afterwards, I got real bad stomach cramps, and so we went home where I took a nap. Karl made buffalo chili while I went to pick up Mom and bring her back. The buffalo chili was amazing.

Posted by Sonia at 06:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Karl got into Denver, safe and sound. Saw Dad for the first time in like ten years.
Mom, Karl and I went to Bonnie Brae for pizza, and across the street for a really good sundae.

Posted by Sonia at 06:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Surgery cancelled. Supposedly because they didn’t stop the feedings in time for the surgery. It seemed late in the day anyway.

Posted by Sonia at 06:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Today’s Memorial Day. We spent it with Kiffer, who was more awake. His trach was capped off, but not fully removed. That was a surprise; a surprise, but a good one.

Posted by Sonia at 06:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I think I’m going to kill someone if I hear that hospital monitor go off one more time.

This whole situation is getting really annoying also. A positive point: Kif isn’t leaking right now, even after he pulled out the lumbar shunt.

Waiting sucks. It really, really sucks.

We have three more full days to endure to see if they’re even going to do surgery on him. THAT is the hardest. And that’s just to fix the leak, that doesn’t even include rehab. Hopefully I’ve misunderstood what the doctors have told my mom.

Posted by Sonia at 06:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I worry that all this stress may be for naught. I worry that Kif will not change his unhealthy habits and tenuous lifestyle. All I want is for him to be happy, and healthy. I can’t tell him what to do any more, he’s 29 years old now. All I can do is offer him advice, give him support and love him unconditionally.

When I first got the call from Mom about Kif’s head injury, an old would opened up again. I love my brother and it hurts to see him incapacitated, and so vulnerable. (I say this even though I’m making him listen to Jon Kabat-Zinn on my iPod). My hands, thighs and stomach all filled up with butterflies. I didn’t want to feel the butterflies. I wanted to be by his side, to let him know I still love him no matter what happened.

Posted by Sonia at 06:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)