Tom Petty said it best….

The waiting is the hardest part.  Can’t get that chorus out of my head for nothing.

My mind has been going through every possible alternative.

Saturday was bill day, because having the power turned off now would really kinda suck.  I think I figured out her filing system and found some paperwork.  Natalie stayed up with Anissa most of the day.  The shifts are beginning.  Some folks came in and some folks begrudgeoningly left.  The cavalry arrived in the form of an SUV filled with familiar kids and two oh-so-sick-of-being-in-that-vehicle adults.  My girls thought it was Christmas when they opened the door.  Apparently, the squeals eminating from 5, 8 and 9 year old girls actually CAN shatter glass.  Who knew?

Nathaniel’s best bud came along…they were cool about it.

The fort they built is ready for Ragnarok.  But then again, compared to these kids, Ragnarok is for sissies.

Ok, so homefront taken care of:  check.

I’ve decided to stop looking at the readouts from the cat scans.  They don’t tell the full story.  The scans keep reading no change or mild improvement.  They are done by different radiologists, so it’s a game of telephone with them.

We’ve also backed off some in how and how much we’re pushing her.  At first we were talking and poking her as much as we could.  My common phrase is, “you fight when you can; rest when you need to.”  We’re letting her rest more now, and not pushing her to her full limit yet.  We’re seeing progress.  A fair amount of progress.

Saturday she opened her eyes when some friends were up.  She would squeeze her hand when asked.  We’re not sure how much she’s seeing, so we’re asking her simple questions.  Saturday night, they were messing with the brace that holds her breathing tube in place.  I’m pretty sure she was in pain because the therapist left it in an awkward position.  Anissa made a fist and tried to reach up.  The restraints held her back, and I put my hand on hers.  She swatted it away and made a fist again.  I tried to wiggle my finger inside her hand and she used her thumb to “eject” my hand from inside of hers.  Coordinated movement!  Might sound simple, but that was extremely encouraging.

On Sunday, the real fireworks began.  I brought up the pillow cases the kids used the night before, so she could smell her babies.  I printed off big pictures of the kids from our last round of yard work.  Anissa’s a shutterbug, so she likes to take these LONG breaks and take pictures.  I played some of the videos she’s made over the years.  There were 2 that I kept playing for her.  The background music of the first was “Bring the Rain” by Mercy Me.  Beautiful words and oh so fitting.  The other one was Superwoman by Alicia Keys.  I don’t know if she ever finished making that video.  It was one for all the cancer moms we’ve met over the years.  It was great to see the faces of all the other parents we’ve gone through struggles with.  It was like they were there with us.  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a final draft because she was listed in it twice.  Who knows, maybe that was just foreshadowing on her part.

When she opened her eyes Sunday, I would hold the pictures of the kids in front of her.  I asked her to squeeze if she could see the kids.  She squeezed.  Hard.  For each one.  No favorites there.  I held her hand up in front of her face and asked her to open it.  No response.  I held my hand in front of her face and made a fist.  She made one.  I said open it, and opened my hand.  She opened her hand immediately.  There was a hint of a tear in her eyes.  There was also a bit of recognition I think.

She’s working so hard.

She’s fighting.

Please keep praying.

On a side note, later in the day, someone called me and was asking about something that I just didn’t want to deal with at the time.  My response was, you can ask my wife, she’ll be awake on Thursday.

We’re going to see a miracle folks.

I just know it.