I walk around like them. I am here so much - no one questions my presence anymore. I purposely wear my work ID daily because it puts them at ease. At a glance my work ID is strikingly similar to the hospital ID so they feel open and free in my presence. They talk about other patients, they talk about patient families, they discuss procedures open and free because among them HIPPAA does not exist - and they think I am one of them. I catch them talking about me. Whispering about what a pain in the ass I am and how I complain about everything. Their opinions don't matter to me. Here I AM REGINA GEORGE.
I mess them up when I cry. When I sit here and watch him roll his eyes in his head or his heart rate go up. Or talk to him as he looks around like he doesn't know me. I am not like them. I care. I love the person in the bed with all the machines hooked up to him. I want him to wake up. I want him ok.
I advocate for Jason. If that means asking a thousand questions, a thousand times, my mouth will keep running until the thousandth question has been answered to my satisfaction. I don't care what anyone thinks. I don't care how anyone feels. Too many mistakes have already taken place and in the end I am taking my son home alive and well to continue the rest of his life normal.
Jason has been sedated the entire night. He has been catching up on sleep. He is still on the ventilator.
The good news is that he is relaxed and calm.
Let's just leave it at that. Today I just want to focus on the good news.
Day #27 Since this Started/Day #22 Since Incoherency
#pray4Jason
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