Yo.

I’ll start with the part we didn’t want. Micah was denied transfer to another hospital today. That was a gut punch. We’re still having to advocate hard for him at every turn and push for care to move at a pace that actually matches how complicated his case is. He’s not an easy patient, and right now we’re asking a lot of a system that prefers things neat and predictable. Unfortunately, Micah is neither.

Now for the better part of the day.

Micah was much more alert and aware today, and able to communicate! Well, kind of. His voice is slowly coming back, and while it’s not fully there yet, he’s making sense more often than not. He keeps asking some of the same questions on repeat: “What’s going on?” and “Where’s my backpack?” (He wants his computer, his game, and to write music, so his priorities are, indeed, intact.) As the day went on, he drifted between Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, which we’re chalking up to a long day, a lot of visitors, and a body that’s still recovering from way more than it signed up for.

At one point there were about seven people in the room, and Micah leaned over and whispered to me, “Tell them that I love everyone.” Which, coming from a man who can barely get words out right now, that was pretty heart-warming.

We arranged for Kaleigh to come see him today. She’s one of his favorite people, and because she’s 14, I wanted to be thoughtful about it. Micah is a lot to take in right now; the weight loss, the open mouth, the yellow eyes, the yellowed skin, and a mental status that’s still under construction. That’s heavy for anyone. She handled it like a champ. The kids got to see their Muncle, say hi, and even got a blown kiss, or the closest version his mouth can manage at the moment.

When I walked in, I said, “What’s up, dude?”
His response: “Yo.”
I asked, “Did you just say ‘yo’?”
He nodded yes.
Then he followed it up with a rhythmic “ba ba ba ba ba.”
I asked if he was singing. Nod yes.
I asked if he just sang the McDonald’s theme song.
Another yes.

So… clearly progress is happening in very Micah-specific ways.

After everyone headed out for the night, I put on his Oceansize, Fair to Midland, and Third Eye Blind. Almost immediately, he started “singing” (more like a silent karaoke version) and nodding his head like he was jamming out. So we tucked him in the only way that makes sense right now: familiar music and familiar voices.

Today wasn’t simple. It wasn’t clean. But pieces of him showed up, and we’ll take that. One day at a time, but we were encouraged today!

-Hannah