The ventilator that had been assisting Ryan the entire time was slowly being lowered. Friday, it was the lowest it had been and he was actually off all blood pressure medicines. His heart was actually pumping twice as much as it had the day before. They decided to check brain activity so they brought him off his sedative. During this time I was able to communicate with him by hand squeezes and subtle nods. I showed him videos of the kids and he would laugh at the videos.
This was the day I put up pictures of us and of the kids. His nurses and doctors were so wonderful and caring and I just wanted them to see the "real" Ryan. Not the Ryan that they had grown to know...the lifeless Ryan who was surviving by way of machines, but the Ryan that was full of life, shining that brilliant smile, and the result of our love.
That Saturday I went home to spend time with the children. The times I spent with the kids were always so welcome. Getting out of the hospital realizing that life was still going on for everyone else was a little hard. I think when something so tragic strikes, you instantly think that the world stops and it seems cold and brutal when it doesn't for everyone else only you. However, when I was home with those babies it all felt right again.
We spent time playing outside breathing that beautiful fresh air that I so desperately needed. I loved on them hard. We prayed for daddy and I tried as best as I could to explain what was going on. Wyatt was taking it so very hard. It crushed me to see how clingy he was, how desperately he wanted his daddy, and how he just couldn't quite understand why he hadn't seen his daddy or even heard his voice in over a week. I asked for everyone to pray for them. They needed them so badly at this point. I didn't know how much longer it would be until they got to hear from their daddy, but I prayed that it wouldn't be much longer.
The next two days were slow. We just let the machines give his body rest and let it heal. There were no blips or bumps in the road, just steady progression on his part. I always said, as long as we aren't moving backwards I've got nothing but time to wait for Ryan to get better. That's exactly what it was. A waiting game. The days became long and monotonous. I spent a lot of time just sitting beside Ryan.
Monday I was at home with the kids again. I had came home that morning and planned to spend the day and come back that evening because there wasn't supposed to be anything exciting going on.
I. Was. Wrong.
Dr. Jones called me mid-morning and told me that over the next few days they were going to start pulling machines. Initially, I was terrified. They seriously wanted to pull the machines that had been keeping my husband alive for more than a week. Just like that?! Yet, I had to trust them. They knew what they were doing. They knew the consequences of what could happen. Even more than I did.
In the end I was okay with it. I knew it would be over the next few days so I had time to mentally prepare. Then, I got a text from my mother in law saying they were pulling the heart pump and then later the vent was coming out. I kind of sort of went into a panic and called my mom telling her she needed to come get the kids because I needed to be there. After we hung up, I realized how close it was to nap time and how wonderful it would be to catch a couple of zzz's with my babies so I told my mom to come around 2:30 and I would sneak off then because it was always easier to sneak off from the kids versus sit there and see their tears.
I got back to the hospital right around 4 and immediately went back to see him. His room seemed empty. The only thing left was an IV tree with nothing but blood thinner and the vent. I arrived at the perfect time. They had turned the vent off and were allowing him to breathe on his own. He had to successfully breathe on his own for an hour and then get a breathing test. If he passed, he was coming off for good.
I sat there watching him breath, waiting for the hour to pass, hoping that he passed the test. When it was finally time and he did pass I was a big ball of excitement knowing that his voice was to be heard very soon.
I was asked to step outside while they pulled the vent. When I heard them say it was out and they asked Ryan to say Hi and I heard him my eyes filled with tears. I finally heard the voice I so longed to hear. They told me I could come in and they told him to say hi. Say hi to me. When you go nearly 10 days without hearing a simple hello from your husband it's so reassuring the moment that they do. Ryan's voice, though whispered, cracked, and weak was so beautiful in that moment. God wanted Ryan back with me and the kids. He wanted him to be alive. Wanted him to be here. Wanted him to be a shining light.
Ryan was back with me. Though still fuzzy from the sedative still wearing off, he was there. We were united once again. The rest of the day I just sat next to him. I'm not sure how I didn't get a UTI during the critical times at the hospital because I was so scared to leave his side. But now, I truly felt like I could breathe. It was one of the best feelings I had felt in a really long time.
Oh my gosh, what a relief to have him off of the machines!
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