His humor is still intact, even if his body is not.
The first surgery went well. He had the broken arm fixed, a pin put in his hand, and a strange contraption attached to his badly broken right leg. It is supposed to slowly pull the leg apart so that the circulation can continue and so when they finally get in there and try to put his ankle and the bottom of his leg back together there's a little more room.

Still on the ventilator, but the collar is off. He was cleared of any neck or back injury that would be a threat. Still think he may have fractured a vertabrae or two, but think they will heal without intervention.

Yesterday was a pretty bad day for him as they had to take a lot of x-rays. All the josteling around is painfull. They also inserted a feeding tube, only to discover in the evening it was not positioned correctly. The fluids were backing up and not running through as they should. Just one more painfull experience.

This morning they will insert a dye and have to re-do the tube while watching on a monitor.

He wrote on a paper 'glowing', making a joke about all the radiation. Each morning he wants to know what day it is and why he can't talk. Seems the most aggrivating thing is the ventilator; I know he wants to talk and ask questions, but also nods when asked if it hurts. It is a miracle of all the things, his right arm and hand are in perfect working order. I think being able to write is keeping him going. He's known for asking a lot of questions about EVERYTHING.

I remember the one time I went to Disneyland he asked me if I went on this ride, saw this area, etc. for about 15 minutes. Whenever you have a decision to make, he's a great sounding board. Whenever you don't want his opinion, it's not so fun! When he is able to talk, the nurses and doctors will have their hands full......

I told him the Suns lost and he rolled his eyes and made a thumbs down.

Until that moment, I had been keeping it together fairly well, knowing I needed to be the rock for my best friend - who is prone to anxiety on a normal day. When he reacted to the Suns losing, I realized he's still in there. He's still Dad, just a really messed up version. But it's still him. And after a really good cry, I felt a lot better.

Now the worry (for me) turns to all the things to come. Finances, where Mom will stay, how she's doing, who will watch my friend's daughter, who will feed the pets.... All the things in life that will continue while Dad and Mom are on hold.
They are still estimating a month in the hospital, and then there will be lots and lots of rehab.

Thank you for all your well wishes. It means a lot. It all seems easier to lay it all out in the blog then to actually vocalize with anyone. Even though I have let many of my friends and family know what's happening, I haven't spoken with any of them or provided any details. I know some of them will find them here!
I hope you all are well and I'll likely be checking in to see what you all are doing some time next week.