What Ya Gonna Do, Mr. Independence?

Mark pulled his feeding tube out last night. It has been bugging him and bugging him. I'm hoping this is going to be a good thing. They left if out throughout today and possibly tomorrow, to see if he'll get hungry enough to eat. While I was there today, he did eat a little mashed potatoes, orange sherbet, and I broke off small pieces of homemade gingersnap cookie and gave them to him (thanks Barb!). He didn't eat a whole lot, but he ate. Crossing my fingers and praying that he'll be ravenous tomorrow and want to eat everything in sight so they won't have to put the feeding tube back in.

There are no therapies on Sunday. Which was good for me. I got to spend a good portion of the day "alone" with my husband (there's almost always an aid in the room with us). When I wheeled him out of his room to see the girls, he looked at them and said, "Hi, beautiful." This was my Mark talking. He ALWAYS says that to them. He pulled them in for hugs and kisses. He even said Madison's name. I can't remember what he said to her before her name because I was having an emotional breakdown. My heart was so relieved to know that he recognizes them. That fear has weighed very heavily on my heart. He tires easily, mentally, if there is too much stimuli: too many people, tv, noise. His visit with the girls didn't last very long. Afterwards, he took a good nap.

I told him several times that today is Sunday. Then a few hours later I asked him what day it is and he said, "Sunday." I hope it wasn't coincidence. My time with him today was medicine for my soul. He talks a lot about work and most of our conversations are not meaningful. But when I get that small glimpse of my Mark in those brief moments, it gives me hope that he'll eventually come all the way back.