We were told by the doctors that Aimee would have a roller coaster ride of highs and lows over the next few days, weeks and months. Personally I don’t like the roller coaster analogy. The best part of a roller coaster ride is when you are falling, because although it can be terrifying it is extremely exhilarating. Sooner or later the ride has to slow down and crest another incline. The inclines tend to be ho-hum, a time to catch your breath and smile at the person sitting next to you. As you near the top, the anticipation builds until the terrifying exhilaration repeats itself. This is not what it is like with Aimee.
Each day we claim some small victory. We don’t have to see physical progress, we seem to take comfort from simple words, silly actions and quiet moments. That is not to say that there are not concerns, but they are quickly snuffed out and the doctors are left once again scratching their heads.
Speaking of doctors, we have an amazing assortment of brilliant minds focusing on Aimee. Their attention to detail astonishes me. Their accessibility is greater than I could have ever anticipated. Their compassion is extraordinary. Aimee and all the other patients in ICU are their family. If you could go out and recruit the best medical minds and the most caring hearts in the world, I am convinced that these are the men you would assemble. Their personalities range from House to Patch Adams and all points in between. I love them all.
The nurses are quite similar. They are hard-working, diligent, compassionate and loving. Many of them are mothers and fathers and they share the faith that bonds you and I toget