done

It’s done. Shortly after I posted this morning, a couple of docs came in the room and asked about his night. I reported gleefully that Ira did wonderfully. One of the docs said, “Well, it’s time.” I was a little surprised that it was happening so quickly. She looked at me and dryly said, “It’s exciting isn’t it?” I just shook my head as if to say, “Words are not enough to explain how I feel right now.” And then she went to work. It took all of two minutes. It was the most uneventful event in Ira’s life. I’m not sure what I was expecting - a parade? trumpets blaring? confetti suddently falling from the ceiling? - but I was picturing something a little more, say, celebratory. Oh well. Life is like this, no? In the end, Ira was a bit agitated at the new gauze pad that was taped to his neck but overall, he was unaffected. Laura and I can’t quit staring at his unadorned neck. And we can’t quite grasp what this means for him and for us. This will hit us at some point, right?

Ira will stay for another 24 hours to be observed and then if all is well, they’ll send us home. Laura’s with Ira now and I’m at home about to crash for a couple of hours before picking up Sophia and taking her to see her little brother.

Your encouragement has meant the world to us. Thank you.

bring it!

It’s early in the AM here in NYC and I’m hanging out with Ira in the hospital. He just did what we all hoped he would do - sleep the entire night with his cap on while maintaining his sats. I woke up about every 30 minutes last night to check his sats and his breathing. I was pleased to find the numbers right where they needed to be and Ira sleeping comfortably.

The plan today? They will come to Ira’s bedside and pull out the trach. No surgery needed. “It’s amazing how the body responds to open holes,” said the doc last night. In other words, it will close up on its own.

I’m so ready. Ira is so ready. Bring it!