January 8th, 2011 by Conor
It’s 5:04 AM. Danny just got his chest x-rays and I stepped out of the room for the five minute procedure. Conor headed back to the hotel to get some rest, but I’m feeling wide awake from the coffee at the nurses station so I’m hanging with Danny for a while longer. Brandi, the nurse, just did some of the routine tests with Danny that included wiggling his toes and squeezing my hand. Since he’s been heavily sedated the last couple of days, I haven’t seen him move like this in a while. He did two very obvious toe wiggles and a solid hand squeeze. I take these things as good signs and they make me happy every time they happen.
January 8th, 2011 by Conor
It’s 2:48 AM. Danny just got blankets straight from the dryer. That’s one of my favorite things. Some of my other favorite things are his laugh and his smile. I love it when he defends me when Conor pokes fun at me. Even though it doesn’t bother me when Conor pokes fun at me, it makes me smile that Danny always has a quick comeback to throw his way. Last week, over the holidays, Danny texted me to let me know that I should make fun of Conor for eating three boxes of Cheeze-Its in three days. Three days after giving Conor shit about his nasty little Cheeze-It habit, I received a message (with picture) from Conor telling me that Danny started wearing briefs. I laughed out loud and sent Danny a text, briefs? really? Ten days after it all started, Conor was seven boxes deep of Big Cheeze-Its and Danny had given up on briefs.
Michelle: How about those Cheeze-Its Eh?
Conor: F-U You and Danny are So Gay
Michelle: Haha you love Cheeze-Its
Conor: I have put down 3 boxes in 3 days, that’s 5,850 calories in Big Cheeze-Its, I think I have a problem
Michelle: You have a problem
Conor: Can you beg Danny not to convert to boxer briefs, I just threw up in my mouth.
Michelle: What he’s wearing boxer briefs, what the hell?
Conor: He looks like a total Chad and it hurts my eyes
Michelle: Your lying
Conor: He’s converting to briefs to impress you.
January 8th, 2011 by Conor
It’s 1:08 AM. The room is dark. The kleenex is blowing in the wind of the fan. Conor’s feet smell, but mine probably do too. Danny is calm. His ICP (intracranial pressure) is a 9 and that’s a good thing. We want that number under 20. Mine is probably around a 5 or a 7. When I sneeze it might go up to a 15…just to give you an example. He has a cooling blanket on to regulate his temperature. The nurses are keeping him around 35 to 35.5 degrees Celsius. I wish I was wearing Danny’s sweatshirt, but it probably doesn’t smell like Danny anymore. Considering Conor has showered once since we got here (same goes to me, but I’m pretty sure I smell like roses) the sweatshirt smells like B.O….wait, I take that back Conor just corrected me. He’s taken three showers, I guess I’m the only smelly one. That doesn’t really matter to me though. I’d rather be here in this room with Danny than anywhere else in the world right now. Healing with him.
