It Could Be Worse… It Could Be Raining.
Micah’s body is being overtaken by toxins because both his liver and kidneys are not functioning. The systems that normally filter and protect everything else simply can’t keep up right now.
He now also has a blood infection. He’s being treated with antibiotics and is still on pressors to support his blood pressure, which remains too low on its own. His breathing is more labored today. Mentally, he is very out of it.
He can still hear us. He’s able to answer yes-or-no questions. When asked if he was in pain, he answered “yes” to pain in his head, his back, and his butt. I would imagine he's in pain considering, today marks 4 weeks in the hospital.
He still isn’t speaking. At best, he can whisper.
Outside of Saturday, when he somehow had the energy to entertain the masses, and a brief moment yesterday where he was a little more wide-eyed, there hasn’t been much improvement. Mostly, it’s been the same heavy stillness.
At some point, the absurdity of all of this settles in. The way something so massive and obvious can’t be fixed, can’t be wished away, can’t even really be named properly.
“You know, I could look at that hump for you.”
“What hump?” -Young Frankenstein
They’ve switched him to a different dialysis regimen, hoping that changing the timing might help jumpstart his kidneys into working on their own again. It isn’t especially promising, but it’s something to try.
I’ve leaned hard on dark humor to cope with all of this. It’s usually my survival skill. But I think I’ve run out of it. What’s left feels less like dark humor and more like just… dark.
I miss my brother; his humor, his wit, his smile, the way he could make me laugh until I cried. I miss the everyday moments, the small pieces of him that made life lighter. Even now, in the heaviness of all this, I hold onto those moments. They’re what keep me here, staying with him, seeing him, being with him through all of it.
-Hannah
"Warm milk....perhaps?
