I walk ahead of myself in perpetual expectancy of miracles. ~ Anais Nin
I’m sitting in Harrison’s dark room at RIC, typing our last journal entry from a hospital! I find myself feeling so many emotions as we stand of the verge of Chapter 4 in Harrison’s recovery journey. Harrison’s only emotion seems to be giddy excitement about getting discharged and heading home. He’s had a smiled pasted to his cute mug for the past two days.
It isn’t without a bit of apprehension and fear that we will take Harrison home tomorrow, but those feelings are outweighed by thankfulness, gratitude, joy and sheer happiness. I’ve had the feeling that we’re jumping off a cliff, into the unknown. What the next Chapter will bring, only God knows. The good news is that, so far, stepping out in faith and believing in miracles has worked quite well for us. So, we’re going with what’s worked : )
Strange as it may sound, leaving RIC is bittersweet (just as it was when we left Children’s in August). There are so many incredible therapists, nurses, PCT’s and a few great doctors who have helped Harrison in ways that seemed impossible. They never shied away for the daunting and unrealistic task of helping H recover. From his first day here, they expected more out of him, and gave him the tools and encouragement to achieve it. Their diligence and resourcefulness are remarkable. And after four months, how could we not be attached to them?
When Harrison was flown to Chicago, he was alert, but pretty “unresponsive”. He had trouble holding his head up, couldn’t speak or communicate and it was a big deal that he would hold a toy in his hand. Yet, to us, at that time, he was so improved. It seems like light years away ~ like that was a different child, than the one who’s sleeping next to me now.
How is it even possible that so much has changed, improved, in four months? I now know that Harrison’s survival, which was against the odds, was just the first of so many miracles. Even in my darkest moments, I tried to remind myself that we are truly blessed; And that if we don’t expect, believe in, and visualize miracles, they’re unlikely to occur. (This has been a situation where being a natural born optimist, and a believer, has served me well.)
So tomorrow, we hold hands, say a prayer, and jump into the unknown together ~ expecting nothing but miracles. It’s not nearly as difficult knowing that we have so many people cheering for, supporting, and praying for Harrison and our family. Words cannot explain what that means to us, sincerely.
Please pray that things go well tomorrow, as going through the airport and the plane ride will be challenging for Harrison (it’s a lot of stimulation and chaos, which is difficult for him). Please pray for our family, as this transition will be uncharted territory for us all. But, most importantly, please offer a prayer of thanks and praise because tomorrow, Harrison will walk out of the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago and by mid-afternoon, be home!