May the Schwartz Be With Ya
Last night and early this morning, Micah passed every breathing test they threw at him. By the time the pulmonary doctor came in today, he took one look at the numbers and said, “Oh, that tube is coming out.” And it did. Praise be.
Micah has been absolutely miserable with that tube down his throat, understandably, considering none of us would handle a plastic garden hose jammed down our airway with any sort of grace. He had sores forming in his mouth, constant irritation, and that helpless discomfort that comes with not being able to speak or swallow. Getting that thing out was long overdue, and seeing him without it made all of our eyes sweat!
Now, it’s going to take some time for his vocal cords to heal before he can speak again. His throat is angry and swollen. For now, communication is mostly facial expressions, head turns, and the occasional purposeful look that says, “I knew it, I'm surrounded by assholes.”
One thing is very clear, though: time has been the biggest factor in his progress. He needs time to rebuild muscle, time for his phosphorous, potassium, and magnesium levels to normalize, time for his body to stop behaving like a broken aquarium filter. His system has been through absolute hell: the high ammonia levels, the prolonged ventilation, the surgery, the near-death experience. His brain deserves a nap that lasts until "Spaceballs 2: The Search for More Money" comes to theaters.
Unfortunately, he refuses to sleep. Homeboy will not keep his eyes closed for more than 30 seconds. We’re all exhausted, but he’s staring at us like we should know exactly what he's mumbling about.
"We missed it! When? Just now. Go back to then. When will then be now? Soon..." - Spaceballs
With the tube gone, continued dialysis, and steady nutrition, we’re hoping his mind gets the chance to settle, rebalance, and heal. He recognizes us, which is huge. He’s responding, not in the crisp, clear, “yes/no” way we would love yet, but in purposeful ways.
We are beyond thrilled to see the tube out. And even more thrilled that he’s here, still fighting, still pushing through milestones we weren’t sure he’d ever reach.
Now the goal is simple: heal the brain, heal the body, and keep moving forward, even if it’s slow, even if it’s messy, even if he only sleeps in 30-second increments.
He’s still here. And that’s everything.
But Wait, There's More...
There’s something I need to say; something separate from the medical updates, the logistics, and the explanations. My mom has been by Micah’s side without ceasing. As a mom myself, I can’t imagine watching my own son knock on death’s door and then be denied entry. But she has lived that reality every minute he’s been in this hospital.
She has been tough-as-nails, protective, and absolutely unshakeable. A rock. An advocate like no one else could ever dream of being. Sure, I’m the one writing these updates, but she’s the one doing the real work. She has kept her shit together in a way that honestly impresses me. More than that, it makes me proud.
I came into this prepared to help pick up her pieces the moment she fell apart. But she never did. She held steady. She decided from day one that her feelings, her exhaustion, her discomfort, her sadness... none of it mattered. Micah’s did. And she has shown up over and over again with a strength that feels impossible but is somehow very real.
As a mom and as her daughter, watching her handle this massive, unfair hardship head-on has been a sight. I genuinely don’t know if I could do it the way she’s doing it. Her shoulders have carried more weight in the past several years than anyone should ever have to bear. It’s not fair, and yet she keeps going.
I know she’ll keep showing up for Micah without complaint, without question, without hesitation. And for that… I’m deeply proud to be her daughter.
If you've gotten this far, thank you. I know you are part of our true support system. And thank you for listening to me brag on my ma. She's a special lady. 💜
-Hannah
