Sylvia's Journal

Tessa and Steve arrived today – after a long long day of flight delays and bad weather and a steward who actually told them ‘Sorry for the delay – we’re going to get you to Boston as safely as possible…’ Very reassuring indeed. In any case, they finally made it to Worcester courtesy of the Katie Blair and Andrew taxi service – thanks for that! When they came to the hospital they had easy access to both Axel and Sylvia because, believe it or not, they are now living only a few doors apart!

Axel was released from the ICU today in the late afternoon/evening. He is currently in room 413 (not a window seat, unfortunatley) and has been totally ‘unplugged’ from all his drips/meds. He had a ‘lovely’ meal today of what looked to be catfood and powdered mashed potatoes and a side of pureed carrot. It’s amazing how four days of not eating makes even animal food look good. He had a pretty eventful day leading up to his transfer – last night at midnight he had a 2.5 hour MRI session that (oddly enough) really interruped his sleep. He felt jostled and prodded, and was a bit fed up with things this afternoon. He kept saying ‘I’m ready to go now…’ He also was able to stand upright today – the nurse told us that the fractures in his pelvis are actually very minor (they looked at the 3rd set of x-rays today), and that he is able to put all his weight on his legs when standing. This is really a remarkable thing – it means that he will be able to more self sufficient than we had previously thought during his rehab time.

He is still a bit groggy/loopy – but i get the sense that this will pass with time. His neighbor is an older gentleman named ‘Franny’ or Frances, whose whole family was visiting today and (as Axel tells me) had a very philosophical debate about sinners in America. They have a smiley face on the whiteboard at the end of the bed that is saying ‘Jesus loves you and so do I…’ I drew a picture of a dinosaur with hearts all around it on my dad’s.

When he came to the 4th floor, they wheeled my dad into my mum’s room and they waved and visited for a few moments, then later she hopped in a wheelchair and raced down the hall to see him. They sat for quite a while and my father talked about how the tough Irish nurses in the ICU had bossed him around. Later, when he asked if he could brush his teeth, the attendant (Henry) said, ‘Sure – you can do whatever you like!’ to which my father dropped his jaw and said – ‘wow. that’s the first I’m hearing of that! The ladies upstairs were brutal!’ The freedom to brush the teeth is a good freedom to have.