Friday night.

Dear Burk,

It appears we have at least temporarily averted crisis #1.  Things are a little more calm this evening.

You came home Thursday evening.  They brought you by ambulance.  They wheeled you around the back of the house on a stretcher.  You were sitting up and mom watched from the kitchen window.  She said it looked like you were directing the show.  I can picture it.  It made me laugh.  Mom failed to find the humor nor did she take a picture.  Dang.

Last night was a bad one.  Mom and dad had to stay right by your bed the entire night.  You fall asleep for short periods of time and out of nowhere you bolt upright, swing your legs off the bed and say you "gotta pee".  This was the "crisis" of the night.  Trying to keep you in bed.  Trying to keep you off your legs.  Trying to get you to cooperate.  After a while, they finally had to concede and they got you in the wheelchair and took you to the bathroom.  "Victory is mine" I'm sure you thought.

After allowing you to do that multiple times, and having your physical therapist say it was okay to do that much, you quickly realized how painful it was.  Because you literally have to pee every twenty minutes (no exaggeration here).  So after a while, you gave up and decided to use the hospital provided bottle.  Turns out it was all a matter of stubborness.  You don't like being told what to do.  Ever.  Once you had the choice, you finally conceded to the one that was easier.  Big sigh.

I spent the day with you.  And I must say I feel a little better at least about the supposed head injury.  A lot of the "craziness" sounds a lot like what you say when you're drunk.  And I now think a lot of what you say is because of the pain medication you're on.  The doctors sent you home on a pain medication regimen that would probably kill me.  The doses you are on are staggering.  And yet you still don't sleep much and you say all sorts of weird stuff.  Actually, it's pretty funny.  At least I think so.

You switch from silly to mean in an instant.  And when you open your eyes we never know which one we're going to get.  Much like when you are drunk.

You bark orders.  "Get me water.  And make it cold and fill it to the top."  As if we would give you hot water for some reason??

On our way to mom and dad's I was talking to my girls about what to expect.  I explained that you were saying some funny stuff and not to worry about your behavior.  I told them sometimes you were a little mean and that sometimes you were being naughty.  Mya replied "We should probably take him back to jail so the workers there can teach him not to be naughty."  I thought it was a great idea.

You seem much more aware of what's going on.  You're not forgetting nearly as much.  Although you ask to go the bathroom every 20 minutes, you ask for pain pills every time your eyes open, and you're eating like a bear.  You forget that you just ate and you've lost all concept of time.  And Jaida says when you sleep you "sound like a grizzly bear".

My goal today was to get you to change clothes.  The hospital sent you home in scrub bottoms which normally would work fine, but for some reason you feel the need to tie the drawstring in quadruple knots that are a nightmare to get undone.  Every time you have to pee.  Which, again, is every 20 minutes.  And they put you in some tuxedo looking sort of top that is about 3 sizes too small.  And for some reason, the entire outfit is covered in lint.  Which bugs me.  And you wouldn't let me use the lint roller to get it off.  So I tried to bargain.  And told you I'd give you your pain meds 30 minutes early.  I thought it was a pretty good bargaining chip.  Especially since you had no idea what time you were supposed to get them anyway and I wasn't really going to give it early.  Yes.  I have no problem lying to you.  Even that couldn't persuade you to change into the basketball shorts and t-shirt we have waiting.  You are stubborn.  And if it's not your idea, it's not gonna happen.

The most exhausting part of the situation is that someone has to be by your bedside all.the.time.  24 hours a day.  Because you can't do anything for yourself.  And when you wake up, there's no telling what you'll do in your confused state.  I sat with you all afternoon while my kids played and Carter napped.  Dad caught a quick nap.  Mom couldn't sleep.  Even after being up nearly all night.

Kelli is coming tonight in the middle of the night to spell them.  So they can get at least some sleep during the night and have the energy and stamina to care for you during the day.  At some point, we'll have to call in more help.  It's physically impossible for just mom and dad to be by your bedside all the time.  And we have to make sure there are at least 2 people in the house at all time just in case you should fall or freak out.  Buddy system.

Hopefully time passes quickly.  And you improve even more quickly.  Because after one day of having you home, it feels like forever.