Hoping for Sanity

We’ve been here before. We’ve done this before.

Flying halfway around the world … rushing into the ICU, not knowing what to expect … waiting … waiting … waiting for any sign of consciousness … finding hope in the tiniest eye movement …

The good news is that she’s alive. The bad news is that “alive,” as it turns out, is a complicated term.

We have done this before, four years ago. And now, we’re doing it again.

Someone once said that insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. Well, we’re doing the same exact thing we did four years ago, and we’re hoping for the same exact result. I guess that means we’re hoping for … sanity, right?

My dad is doing great. He’s seeing patients, writing books, drinking with friends, and doing just about everything he was before he suffered his aneurysm.

And now, we can only hope my mom makes the same miraculous recovery.

But things aren’t the same. Doctors have no idea why she went into cardiac arrest. They’re not even sure when she collapsed. They’re afraid she was without a heartbeat — and precious oxygen to her brain — for at least 10, maybe even 20 minutes. She’s registering the lowest score on the Glasgow Coma Scale. They haven’t detected any brain activity …

Things aren’t the same. Yet, there isn’t anything we can do differently. All we can do is the same exact thing we did four years ago. We march into the ICU twice a day during visiting hours. We talk to her … ask her if she can hear us … play music for her … move her arms and legs around to help her get some “exercise” … hope for … if not the best, at least just not the worst …

Mostly, we wait.

And we hope that by doing the exact same thing we did four years ago, we can see the exact same result we did four years ago with my dad.

Because to get a different result would be insanity, right?

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