Happy New Year!

Every day when I walk in to dad's hospital room, I'm amazed by how much better he seems. Every day! It's pretty cool.

They've had him sitting up in a chair for a couple of hours in the morning. Eventually they'll get him up and walking around.

He is able to control his body much more now. He can pretty well maneuver himself around the bed, changing his position to make himself more comfortable. His hands aren't wobbly anymore, and his writing is much improved.

He is completely off the ventilator. They were able to put the speaking valve in his trach, and he's tolerating it well, so he can now talk to us (huzzah!), and his voice is getting stronger. The respiratory therapist is hoping to put a smaller trach in today, cap it, and deliver oxygen through a nasal cannula. If he tolerates that well for 3 days, and if he passes his "swallow test" on Monday, they can take the trach out entirely.

Dad is well aware of what day/month/year it is, but his days and nights are all twisted around. For example, if you tell him it's noon, he's surprised, because to him it feels like it's 5pm. The nurses are going to try to start giving him pain meds at night instead of during the day and see if that helps.

His sense of humor is firmly intact. When the nurse asked him what year it was, he thought for a moment and in mock earnestness replied, "1876?" And then yesterday, Jana called while I was with dad. I told her that he had the speaking valve in and could talk - did she want to hear his voice?

Jana: (nearly in tears) Ohmygod, yes! Dad! Dad, can you hear me?

Sara: (holding phone to dad's ear) Dad, say something to Jana!

Dad: (recognizing his chance to say something deep and meaningful) mmmphaaarghwaddahaddaarghhhhhh

Jana: Dad! What...?

Sara: Aw dad, c'mon, say something nice.

Dad: (further channeling his inner village idiot) oogidaboogidaglibblegarblepfft

Jana: Ha ha ha, aww, I love you too.