These have been really long days and weeks. As hard as they have been on us, we can’t imagine how hard they have been on Neil. He’s a fighter and has been hanging in there for us allowing the hospital to run all the tests and scans, receiving doses of different medicines, allowing himself to be poked and prodded countless times, not that he has a choice. He’s been seen by dozens of doctors and nurses and medical technicians. Each day we have hope of encouraging news. 

Chris drives to the hospital each day and parks his car in the UAB garage, and walks from the parking structure taking the elevator to the second floor which connects to the hospital, then a walk down a long corridor making a left at the end then a right then another long corridor always following the signs to the MICU. But he knows this journey by heart now. A quick right and the elevator up to the 6th floor and another series of hallways and turns and there he finds himself in front of his dad’s room. He sits there with his dad and waits until the doctors make rounds which usually means he’s there for 3-4 hours before he heads into work. Then he calls us - Jared, Jill, myself to debrief us on what news or lack there of there might be. He’s become familiar with medicines and terms like PEEP. He’s learned the sounds of the machines and what each one is doing to help his dad. He might stop at the Starbucks in the hospital either on the way in or on the way out- sometimes both. He heads into work to get as much done as he can there - checking in on the office and customer jobs, returning phone calls, trying to stay focused. Often times he stops in at the hospital again to check in on his dad before a basketball game of one of our boys. More phone conversations with all of us. These have been hard days. 

From Maine, Jill is doing the twice a day calls to the nurse and or doctor. She asks all the questions and translates the answers about his condition in a way we can understand (she’s an occupational therapist which is why she is the best woman for the job of writing these updates). So many phone calls. So many heavy topics to cover. She gets the information and feeds it back to us. Everyday. Sometime twice. She’s patient when we don’t know what the terms are, what the medicines do, what the diagnosis means. She spends time researching what she and the doctors discussed and then shares her findings with all of us. Calling, texting until late way after the baby has been put to bed. Way after she’s helped the big ones with homework and gotten everyone bathed and ready for the next day. These have been hard days. 

And there’s Jared. He is taking care of all Neil’s bills, paperwork, meeting with the attorney, the bankers, making sure everything is paid and current while also making a million phone calls to make sure he’s covered everything on the list. He walked the hallways of the hospital with chris everyday when he came down in December. He knows the drill. He’s heard the sounds of the machines and knows the medicines and met with the doctors too. He’s asked the questions. He had to leave. He too had a business to run, customer that needed him, employees that needed him. And Jill and his children that needed him. He had to go back to Maine. These have been hard days. 

What a gift though. One night when Chris and I and my dad and Jared were all there and we walked in and Neil was awake! It was the first time that Jared had seen him alert and Neil was vented but he was able to communicate with us. Hand squeezes, thumbs up, even writing on a board with a marker. He wrote the word “when”. It took us a while to figure out what he meant but we finally figured it out and were able to tell him what was going on. “When” he went into the hospital in Mobile. “When” he came to UAB. “When” he was vented. “When” He was surprisingly alert...and he was able to look at each one of us and kind of smiled. I know that must be pretty hard to do with a vent in but he did. He saw us. He knew we were there. We were able to communicate and tell him we loved him and he was able to tell us back...not with words because he couldn’t talk but we knew. I see that precious time as a gift because he went under full sedation after that and hasn’t been alert since. 

Carolyn, Neil’s girlfriend, came 2 days after that night. And stayed by his bedside for hours everyday talking to him, telling him she loved him over and over. She talked with the nurses and doctors and familiarized herself with each machine and what it did for Neil. Those two had found each other and when they did, they found something really special. We think of her as a little angel and we are so thankful for her kindness to Neil and us. These have been hard days. 

The boys and I have been in and out of the hospital. Hayden even made the trip down there by himself one afternoon. It was his first time driving downtown. That’s a story in and of itself!!! But when Hayden walked in (this was in the first days he was at UAB) they had removed the vent so Neil was able to have a conversation with him, his last conversation he had with anyone. It was only a few hours that he wasn’t vented but what a gift for Neil to spend those few hours talking with his first grandson! He was struggling to breathe so he was vented shortly after Hayden left but again...another gift. 
When the rest of us visited, the boys would share how they were doing in school, or what the score was in their game the night before, or some other tidbit they thought Ga would enjoy. He couldn’t respond verbally. His eyes were shut tight but his pulse would quicken, a sign that he knew we were there. We sang Christmas Carols, read to him all of your notes that so many friends and family left for him on this site or on Facebook, and prayed with him. We know he was listening. Just this week Zach wrote Neil a letter and wanted to read it to him so we called chris who was at the hospital and chris put us on speaker so that Ga could hear Zach read his letter. Ga loves his grandchildren. 

We now recognize, with the doctors’ help after 39 days in the ICU, that we have moved beyond treating acute symptoms with the hope of recovery, but to a point of machines keeping him alive with no hope of recovery. We know clearly what his wishes are and we aim to honor his wishes as we transition him to Pallative care over the next few days. We are so blessed that we will be together with Jared and Jill and all of Neil’s grandchildren. He would be so happy that we were all together. Thank you for all of your kind thoughtful messages and your prayers. Please continue these. Much love, The Lameys (all of us)