Cowboy here. Sar and I are home. It's good to be here. I promised my wife we'd get back to Bethesda sometime after Thanksgiving. Will go back sooner if necessary. I'm optimistic the young man is slowly recovering.
Sar didn't want to leave; I understood that. David will remain for the time being; he has a condo nearby, can monitor what's happening. My inexhaustible imp slept the entire 5-hour flight, slept through the drive from the airport home. She woke to greet the animals left behind, had a bit of juice, fell asleep at the table. I carried her to bed, slept through the night. Woke early, demanded supper which she missed, ate a bit of warmed up stew, took a nap, then wondered about missing breakfast. That's Sar exhausted, never admitting it.
Got home Friday night, bought some candy for the kids, they all came around last night. Sar was awake enough to make sure I didn't give any chocolate away. Had to retrieve the stuff the imp stole from the kids, give it back. Ran out of sweets, dug into Sar's twinkie/cracker jack stash. Heard my gun cabinet click open-- decided I gave enough of those away. Did I ever mention Sar has a set of lock picks, knows how to use them?
My little gal has a couple of medical appointments coming up – made them before we left the DC area. Got to check out her abdominal discomfort, a few other concerns.
Brought the cat home, could have left it with David but it goes where Sar goes. All our animals do that, shadowing her everywhere. Grateful we don't own goats.
Glad to be home, glad to have my imp to myself. There's a few long overdue swats in her future. I'll replace the twinkies and cracker jack first.
Cowboy
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Hello Sweet People!
Cowboy and I are astounded (and humbled) by all the personal emails, cards and notes we have received regarding Bull. Thank you. Your positive and healing thoughts and prayers have comforted us as well as Bull's mama and family. I'm happy to announce that Bull is awake, coherent, talking, and making food demands. He remains in the intensive care unit for the time being. He has had two surgeries since we've been here, due to have several more. ICU is a bit of insurance to monitor his vitals – anesthesia, recovery, etc. They wheeled in another bed so those of us staying… can sleep more comfortably when we nap.
I continue to make lasagna, apple cake and other food Bull favors. His mama makes spoon bread for her boy and some indescribable concoction that smells suspiciously like road kill but I'm afraid to ask. DomTom has taken up permanent space on Bull's bed, leaving only to use the litter box. The animal helps himself to Bull's food when the medical staff isn't looking. I keep canned tuna and salmon for the feline. This makes it very happy.
Bull isn't out of the woods by a long shot. He has several surgeries ahead of him, months and months of rehab. He hasn't complained of pain, his injuries, or what's ahead of him. It isn't that he's stoic; he's just calm, taking each day as it comes. He has a strong faith in his God and I think that also sustains him. I, on the other hand, believe in encouraging every small step back toward a normal life. If he needs to be yelled at, I'll do that, too.
His former commanding officer has been here several times along with members of his unit. Lots of folks from his little town in Arkansas have also visited. Bull is a hometown hero. Considering his actions on the front lines, he's a national hero as well.
I'm getting a little more rest now that Bull is awake. I think all that excess adrenaline kept me wide-eyed while he was unconscious. Cowboy wants us to go home. I'd like to stay a little longer, be sure Bull doesn't have a relapse. I wouldn't have any problem making Thanksgiving dinner in David's condo, bring it to the hospital to celebrate our many blessings. We'll see.
Personally, I think Cowboy needs some "us" time. I'm just saying…
~Sar~
I continue to make lasagna, apple cake and other food Bull favors. His mama makes spoon bread for her boy and some indescribable concoction that smells suspiciously like road kill but I'm afraid to ask. DomTom has taken up permanent space on Bull's bed, leaving only to use the litter box. The animal helps himself to Bull's food when the medical staff isn't looking. I keep canned tuna and salmon for the feline. This makes it very happy.
Bull isn't out of the woods by a long shot. He has several surgeries ahead of him, months and months of rehab. He hasn't complained of pain, his injuries, or what's ahead of him. It isn't that he's stoic; he's just calm, taking each day as it comes. He has a strong faith in his God and I think that also sustains him. I, on the other hand, believe in encouraging every small step back toward a normal life. If he needs to be yelled at, I'll do that, too.
His former commanding officer has been here several times along with members of his unit. Lots of folks from his little town in Arkansas have also visited. Bull is a hometown hero. Considering his actions on the front lines, he's a national hero as well.
I'm getting a little more rest now that Bull is awake. I think all that excess adrenaline kept me wide-eyed while he was unconscious. Cowboy wants us to go home. I'd like to stay a little longer, be sure Bull doesn't have a relapse. I wouldn't have any problem making Thanksgiving dinner in David's condo, bring it to the hospital to celebrate our many blessings. We'll see.
Personally, I think Cowboy needs some "us" time. I'm just saying…
~Sar~
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
More Good News
Cowboy here. Bull is awake about 50% of the time. Don't know what caused the turn around but will impart a few events. I was on my cell checking up on matters back home. Sar was sitting next to Bull, talking quietly to him. David was here, reading. Suddenly, an alarm sounded in the room, making us all jump. Sar immediately jumped on top of the comatose Bull, on his chest, punched his chest using both fists, the alarm went silent. Medics came running, Bull began to flat line they said. Don't know if my wife brought him back by her actions or the good Lord answered a prayer or 2. We are all grateful regardless.
Sar said she didn't see the flat line beginning; she simply reacted to the sound. Medics said her actions were similar to what they would have done. Probably would have done it with more finesse. Doesn't matter. It worked. Would like to add the birbintella also screamed as loud as she could that he better not die on her… A few things added to his IV lines and Bull's vitals were back to normal.
Later the tomcat – DomTom - crawled under Bull's hospital shirt, its head sticking out at the neck. Bull woke briefly, whispered "Tommy," that's what he calls the cat. In all honesty, have no idea what to make of that.
David and I continue to talk to the man, our words meant to encourage his well being, his future. Sar continues to yell at him, sometimes whispers words we cannot hear. The imp's expression varies – fierce, demanding, other times a tenderness that recalls days of regret/grief we have shared in the past. Bull drifts away now and again, happy to say more awake than not, says a few words, smiles at my imp.
Sar is more tired these days, eats when I put food in front of her. She rallies a bit after a brief rest, insists on staying close to Bull. From previous experiences, it is of no use to try forcing her away to rest. I hold her until she nods off; for now it is enough.
I humbly ask for your continued prayers for all our military, veterans, wounded, those on active duty. Sar joins me in thanking you for those prayers and good wishes for our own as well as those across the world fighting to give others freedom.
Cowboy
Sar said she didn't see the flat line beginning; she simply reacted to the sound. Medics said her actions were similar to what they would have done. Probably would have done it with more finesse. Doesn't matter. It worked. Would like to add the birbintella also screamed as loud as she could that he better not die on her… A few things added to his IV lines and Bull's vitals were back to normal.
Later the tomcat – DomTom - crawled under Bull's hospital shirt, its head sticking out at the neck. Bull woke briefly, whispered "Tommy," that's what he calls the cat. In all honesty, have no idea what to make of that.
David and I continue to talk to the man, our words meant to encourage his well being, his future. Sar continues to yell at him, sometimes whispers words we cannot hear. The imp's expression varies – fierce, demanding, other times a tenderness that recalls days of regret/grief we have shared in the past. Bull drifts away now and again, happy to say more awake than not, says a few words, smiles at my imp.
Sar is more tired these days, eats when I put food in front of her. She rallies a bit after a brief rest, insists on staying close to Bull. From previous experiences, it is of no use to try forcing her away to rest. I hold her until she nods off; for now it is enough.
I humbly ask for your continued prayers for all our military, veterans, wounded, those on active duty. Sar joins me in thanking you for those prayers and good wishes for our own as well as those across the world fighting to give others freedom.
Cowboy
Thursday, October 07, 2010
Hopeful News
Cowboy here. Bull has made some improvements. Once in a while – not too often – he opens his eyes. Not sure this is due to medical intervention or my wife's constant badgering him to wake up. It's a mystery how anyone can sleep while Sar yells recriminations. When the imp runs out of steam, she rests her head near Bull's ear, whispers things I don't hear. Don't know if she's threatening him, cajoling him or making promises. If it's promises, it's food related for certain.
Bull's folks are amazed at the bond shared between those 2. Not me. The man has seen to my wife's safety and welfare when I'm not around. From what I've seen, he loves my imp, a good thing. In return, Sar has committed a total friendship, not something she does for too many folks. I know that love is returned 100-fold. Bull is family.
The cat continues to stay at Bull's side, making feline sounds, head bumping his chin, purring. The medics take its presence in stride, makes me wonder what other strange things happened in ICU suites.
Sar is not getting as much rest as is needed. I have to pry her away from Bull, get her to eat, nap. As each day passes, her strength dwindles a bit, slightly worrisome. While here, I am trying to find a medic brave enough to check her out. The marines outside Bull's room rotate every 4 hours; each comes in to check on Bull when they begin/end their shifts. Sar baked sweets for them, rapidly learned details of their lives, each one already under the imp's spell.
Last night was a good night for all of us. Bull was aware for a few moments, saw Sar, mumbled something, drifted back to wherever his mind is. Sar said he mumbled "apple cake." She kissed his cheek, whispered something to him, fell asleep on my lap. We spent a more restful night at David's condo, back here in the morning.
The medics said Bull's drifting in and out of consciousness is a hopeful sign. I continue to ask the good Lord for assistance; Sar lets the good Lord know she has many higher expectations. Thank you for your prayers, your good wishes.
Cowboy
Bull's folks are amazed at the bond shared between those 2. Not me. The man has seen to my wife's safety and welfare when I'm not around. From what I've seen, he loves my imp, a good thing. In return, Sar has committed a total friendship, not something she does for too many folks. I know that love is returned 100-fold. Bull is family.
The cat continues to stay at Bull's side, making feline sounds, head bumping his chin, purring. The medics take its presence in stride, makes me wonder what other strange things happened in ICU suites.
Sar is not getting as much rest as is needed. I have to pry her away from Bull, get her to eat, nap. As each day passes, her strength dwindles a bit, slightly worrisome. While here, I am trying to find a medic brave enough to check her out. The marines outside Bull's room rotate every 4 hours; each comes in to check on Bull when they begin/end their shifts. Sar baked sweets for them, rapidly learned details of their lives, each one already under the imp's spell.
Last night was a good night for all of us. Bull was aware for a few moments, saw Sar, mumbled something, drifted back to wherever his mind is. Sar said he mumbled "apple cake." She kissed his cheek, whispered something to him, fell asleep on my lap. We spent a more restful night at David's condo, back here in the morning.
The medics said Bull's drifting in and out of consciousness is a hopeful sign. I continue to ask the good Lord for assistance; Sar lets the good Lord know she has many higher expectations. Thank you for your prayers, your good wishes.
Cowboy
Friday, October 01, 2010
Bull Update
Cowboy here. Bull remains in a coma as I write this. Prior to our arrival, the medics told us Bull has been entirely motionless, no response to outside stimuli. They believe his injuries are severe to the point that his mind is blanking, waiting for his body to heal.
Sar didn't buy this. She understands deep pain, has been through that, says a body goes quiet but the brain is still working. When the medics left the room, mia bambina put the tomcat on Bull's chest. The large feline made sounds I've never heard before. Took awhile for it to settle down, then continued to purr as it licked Bull's face, neck, ears. In the course of licking his face, it dislodged the tubes in his nostrils that feed oxygen. Bull's chest rose; he breathed easily on his own. Sar was the only one not surprised.
The cat hissed at the medics who, by the grace of God, didn't say a word about an animal in an ICU suite. A good thing. My wife would have kicked them all to hell; I'd have some serious explaining to do. We take turns staying near him, Sar and I, Bull's mother, sisters, nephews. Members of his unit stand honor guard outside his room, a long Navy/Marine tradition. I always know the minute David arrives; the guards greet him formally.
Modern medicine has never come up against the likes of my imp. She's losing patience. Regardless of their treatment, many IVs, injections, Bull remains in a coma. Yesterday, when they were out of the room, Sar straddled Bull's chest, whispered a few things to the unconscious man, then startled all of us by yelling at him to wake up. Apparently, that wasn't sufficient. Sar loudly accused him of breaking promises, a serious offense in her opinion. Bull moved his arms a bit, nothing too significant but definite movement. His shoulders are heavily bandaged, among his injuries, they had been dislocated and realigned. His head moves a bit to the side. He is agitated. Hospital personnel do not approve of my wife's actions but admit that an agitated man in a coma is a positive sign of brain activity. That is a hopeful thing.
I had a few moments of concern that Sar might be hurting Bull. The medics assured me he is loaded with morphine, doesn't feel pain or physical pressure. I hope that is true. I pulled mia bambina off of the man. Might as well have tried to pry a pit bull's jaws off of its dinner. My warrior woman is tenacious, determined to see Bull's eyes open. I, for one, am grateful Sar does not carry a weapon.
If Bull is going to recover, he will probably do so via modern medicine. I am convinced your prayers and ours also have much to do with this, Sar's yelling at God notwithstanding. He is a strong willed man; I am optimistic he will get through this. Your continued prayers are most welcome. Will try to update again in a few days.
Cowboy
Sar didn't buy this. She understands deep pain, has been through that, says a body goes quiet but the brain is still working. When the medics left the room, mia bambina put the tomcat on Bull's chest. The large feline made sounds I've never heard before. Took awhile for it to settle down, then continued to purr as it licked Bull's face, neck, ears. In the course of licking his face, it dislodged the tubes in his nostrils that feed oxygen. Bull's chest rose; he breathed easily on his own. Sar was the only one not surprised.
The cat hissed at the medics who, by the grace of God, didn't say a word about an animal in an ICU suite. A good thing. My wife would have kicked them all to hell; I'd have some serious explaining to do. We take turns staying near him, Sar and I, Bull's mother, sisters, nephews. Members of his unit stand honor guard outside his room, a long Navy/Marine tradition. I always know the minute David arrives; the guards greet him formally.
Modern medicine has never come up against the likes of my imp. She's losing patience. Regardless of their treatment, many IVs, injections, Bull remains in a coma. Yesterday, when they were out of the room, Sar straddled Bull's chest, whispered a few things to the unconscious man, then startled all of us by yelling at him to wake up. Apparently, that wasn't sufficient. Sar loudly accused him of breaking promises, a serious offense in her opinion. Bull moved his arms a bit, nothing too significant but definite movement. His shoulders are heavily bandaged, among his injuries, they had been dislocated and realigned. His head moves a bit to the side. He is agitated. Hospital personnel do not approve of my wife's actions but admit that an agitated man in a coma is a positive sign of brain activity. That is a hopeful thing.
I had a few moments of concern that Sar might be hurting Bull. The medics assured me he is loaded with morphine, doesn't feel pain or physical pressure. I hope that is true. I pulled mia bambina off of the man. Might as well have tried to pry a pit bull's jaws off of its dinner. My warrior woman is tenacious, determined to see Bull's eyes open. I, for one, am grateful Sar does not carry a weapon.
If Bull is going to recover, he will probably do so via modern medicine. I am convinced your prayers and ours also have much to do with this, Sar's yelling at God notwithstanding. He is a strong willed man; I am optimistic he will get through this. Your continued prayers are most welcome. Will try to update again in a few days.
Cowboy
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