Edward was placed in a room in the Neurological Intensive Care Unit. The patient rooms are arranged in a circle around a central nursing station. The room is large compared to a 'normal' hospital patient room. The bed is centered in the middle, the patient faces the nursing station. Behind the patients bed is a wall covered with machines designed to keep people alive. Machines that monitor the patient's breathing, pulse, blood pressure, heart beat, temperature, and stuff I don't even know about.
When we were allowed to see Ed, we were pleasantly surprised by the lack of a 'mummy-wrapped' head, facial swelling and bruising. Dr. Walpert passed on the information that upon waking from surgery, Ed responded to her voice, answered questions, and was, in general, doing quite well.
It was still a shock to see him. My brother, B2, cried uncontrollably and could not be consoled. When Ed would open his eyes, B2 moved out of his line of vision so his dad couldn't see him cry. At last Ed caught a glimpse of B2, and when he saw him crying, he cried too. I tried to explain to him that my little brother, his son, was crying because he wasn't used to seeing him in a hospital bed, with tubes and needles. My brother lay his head on Ed's chest and his body shook as he cried. Ed cried too. Finally, B2's girlfriend led him outside. They decided to go home for awhile. Later, when they returned, B2 was composed. I'm sure T told him he had to be strong for his dad.
At this point, Ed had no idea what Dr. Walpert had found inside his head. He would wake for a few moments at a time, then drift back to sleep. It seemed miraculous that he could talk, that he wasn't very swollen, that he had no memory loss. He did experience bouts of nausea and it was painful to watch him. Mostly it was dry heaves, and it was heart wrenching to see. But overall, he looked and sounded pretty good.
Ed attempted to eat food, but it nauseated him. I tried spooning some beef broth into him on the second day, and was met with gags and wretching. I immediately put that away and tried the frozen lemon gellato. That went over much better! On the 2nd day he asked the nurse for peanut butter crackers. That was a sign he was getting better!
The incision in his scalp and skull was horseshoe shaped. The open end of the horseshoe facing toward his left ear. Dr. Walpert didn't shave that whole side of his head; instead, she only cut away a line of hair in a large semicircle. She even gave the hair she cut off to my mom in a ziplock baggie. That made her seem more human, that she realized we, or Ed, might want to keep his hair. There was also a port of some sort in the right side of his neck which would only remain for a couple of days.
The NICU nurses and doctors were amazingly gentle, sweet and caring. They kept telling us how sweet Ed was. How agreeable he is and easy to take care of. Ed had several male nurses, even one big burly guy with tattoos. But the young pretty nurses were his favorites! I think he was truly enjoying all the attention he got from them. Yet, he was anxious to be moved to a regular room, because that was a step closer to going home.
Ed stayed in the NICU for only three days. On the fourth morning he was moved to a regular hospital room. He had amazed us all by how well he was doing!
When we were allowed to see Ed, we were pleasantly surprised by the lack of a 'mummy-wrapped' head, facial swelling and bruising. Dr. Walpert passed on the information that upon waking from surgery, Ed responded to her voice, answered questions, and was, in general, doing quite well.
It was still a shock to see him. My brother, B2, cried uncontrollably and could not be consoled. When Ed would open his eyes, B2 moved out of his line of vision so his dad couldn't see him cry. At last Ed caught a glimpse of B2, and when he saw him crying, he cried too. I tried to explain to him that my little brother, his son, was crying because he wasn't used to seeing him in a hospital bed, with tubes and needles. My brother lay his head on Ed's chest and his body shook as he cried. Ed cried too. Finally, B2's girlfriend led him outside. They decided to go home for awhile. Later, when they returned, B2 was composed. I'm sure T told him he had to be strong for his dad.
At this point, Ed had no idea what Dr. Walpert had found inside his head. He would wake for a few moments at a time, then drift back to sleep. It seemed miraculous that he could talk, that he wasn't very swollen, that he had no memory loss. He did experience bouts of nausea and it was painful to watch him. Mostly it was dry heaves, and it was heart wrenching to see. But overall, he looked and sounded pretty good.
Ed attempted to eat food, but it nauseated him. I tried spooning some beef broth into him on the second day, and was met with gags and wretching. I immediately put that away and tried the frozen lemon gellato. That went over much better! On the 2nd day he asked the nurse for peanut butter crackers. That was a sign he was getting better!
The incision in his scalp and skull was horseshoe shaped. The open end of the horseshoe facing toward his left ear. Dr. Walpert didn't shave that whole side of his head; instead, she only cut away a line of hair in a large semicircle. She even gave the hair she cut off to my mom in a ziplock baggie. That made her seem more human, that she realized we, or Ed, might want to keep his hair. There was also a port of some sort in the right side of his neck which would only remain for a couple of days.
The NICU nurses and doctors were amazingly gentle, sweet and caring. They kept telling us how sweet Ed was. How agreeable he is and easy to take care of. Ed had several male nurses, even one big burly guy with tattoos. But the young pretty nurses were his favorites! I think he was truly enjoying all the attention he got from them. Yet, he was anxious to be moved to a regular room, because that was a step closer to going home.
Ed stayed in the NICU for only three days. On the fourth morning he was moved to a regular hospital room. He had amazed us all by how well he was doing!
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