Graduation (from) gowns

Ben is out of the hospital! He left the rehabilitation wing at Salt Lake Regional medical center on Friday, Sept. 5, and is now staying with our parents. Sure, it's a little hard for any grown-up to go back under the family roof, but I know Mom will take great care of him. Careful attention will be de rigeur, hospital gowns and IV needles will not. Thank you for your willingness, Mom.

This development is huge. I think the term "discharge" is interesting as it relates to Ben's leaving the hospital. His body systems -- respiratory, renal, etc. -- are healed to the point that full-time medical care is no longer needed. So he's removed from the hospital, but sent forth with the charge to keep getting better. Ben's attitude has been critical all along in his role of getting better, of course, but no more so than now. How well he improves is up to him.

Ben will continue physical therapy, with workers scheduled to come to his home. A particular focus will be muscle strength. He's experienced some trembling in his right leg when standing. But I know he can keep fighting. Go Ben!

Ben in his tux

Thank you to Aunt Susan for providing this photo from the wedding Aug. 30. Here's Ben with brother Josh standing behind him, and brother-in-law Jeff and nephew Samuel in the background. Doesn't Ben look great?

Rising to the occasion

Ben looked spiffy in a tuxedo today -- yes, a tuxedo! Not your typical hospital garb, of course, but then Ben got to leave the hospital briefly to attend our brother Jeff's wedding. Where's a picture, you ask? Well, Ben's big sister (me) failed to wrangle her kids and the camera at the same time, so we'll have to wait for some of the official wedding shots to show how good Ben looked. Trust me, he did.

Knowing the deep friendship these two brothers share, I'm certain that one of Jeff's best wedding gifts was having Ben there. Ben was in a wheel chair but stood when the audience rose to honor bride Madison as she walked down the aisle. I was impressed! He also stood for a few of the group pictures and ate a little with our family.

He was quiet and subdued most of the time and was exhausted after his three-hour tour . . . but he was there!! It was the icing on the cake. I heard Ben repeatedly tell aunts, uncles, cousins and friends, "It was good to see you," and I know that wasn't merely small talk. He means it.

So a double congratulations is in order: to Jeff and Madison for their marriage and start of a great life together, and to Ben for his own commitment, through hard work and a good attitude, to make a better life. I love you all.

The Road To Recovery is Long

It has been some time since we provided an update on Ben's progress, so it is time to make amends. Each day, Ben has been able to accomplish more than the day before. It seems like it was only a short time ago that we were cheering the fact that Ben could sit up unsupported for 15 seconds. Now with the aid of a walker and support of the rehab staff, he has been able to walk up and down the halls of the hospital and today he climbed some stair steps. His three hour rehabilitation sessions leave him very tired, but he is pleased and proud of his progress. Today one of his tasks was to stir up and bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies (a first for Ben even before he went into the hospital). I have been told that they were good, but I wouldn't know as they were all gone when I arrived for a visit.

While Ben's journey to recovery is a long one, this trip is making him a better person. I am reminded of a quote attributed to Victor Frankl, "We can discover this meaning in life in three different ways: (1) by doing a deed; (2) by experiencing a value; and (3) by suffering ." Ben has been able to do all of these things in the past few weeks and has broadened his understanding of how meaningful life can be.

Once again we express our thanks to all who have and are continuing to support Ben.

Ben's Dad

Steppin' up

Ben walked about 30 steps today with a walker. He has regular blood lab work done, which has shown steady improvements in his kidneys. Today his doctors said these tests showed his kidneys are almost back to normal.

We're sharing the comments here with Ben, so keep 'em coming! Over and over again he's told me how much he appreciates the support everyone gives him. He definitely feels loved.

Thank you for caring.

Walking

Ben walked today in the parallel bars. This is huge! He's hosting his own Olympics, medalling in every event he enters. We love you, Ben! Keep up the good work!

Gaining strength

Ben seems to recognize the sequence of things: first get stronger, then do more. He shared with me how frustrated he was when he fell a couple of days ago in his room. That was then. Today he was proud to tell me that he stood, with support, and took a couple of steps with a walker. Yay, Ben!

Ben told me about the EKG done today, which showed no holes in his heart. This is a blessing because tests done at the end of July while Ben was still in the ICU pointed to possible congenital defects.

Today's visit was a unique glimpse at a calm, sweet, accepting Ben. Not unusual because these qualities weren't part of his makeup before, but different because they now seem more dominant, edging out the tension and nervous energy of the Ben from just a month ago. There is a definite peace about him.

I watched Ben patiently let a nurse convert his arm into a teaching moment for a new aide learning how to change the IV dressing. Ben was accommodating beyond belief.

Was he just too tired to care? Is that why he seemed so easy going? I don't think so. It's clear from our conversation that Ben is grateful to be here. That gratitude takes the shape of a meek disposition. His mindset is being molded alongside his muscles.

I marvel at his grace in this situation, facing hurdles down a muddied track whose distance to the finish line hasn't even been mapped yet. I told Ben that my mind's eye has often put me in his place. This is so hard! How would I cope in the hospital? He smiled when I told him I think I would hold a nightly pity party, guest of one. His smile seemed to say, oh, sister, you just wouldn't be strong enough, let me tell you how it's done . . .

Ben is willing to take on his challenges because he's glad he's alive. Yes, he gets discouraged at his limitations, but I don't think he dwells on them. That would take too much energy. He'd rather focus his efforts on moving forward.

Ben wanted me to tell everyone thank you. He feels your love and support deeply.

Thank you for your continued encouragement.

Jenni

P.S. When I asked Ben if I could bring him anything to read, he lit up when I suggested Mad Magazine. I'm going to get him the current issue, but if any of you have back issues that you'd like to donate, that would be wonderful. Please email me, jlkhatch@yahoo.com, so we can coordinate getting such high-falutin material Ben's way.

Great Things Are Accomplished By Taking Small Steps

After 1 full week in rehabilitation, we are encouraged by the progress Ben is making. However last night, he was a little down on himself because he is unable to do things he used to do. We often take for granted the little things we do like standing up, walking across the room, going to the bathroom, or even sitting up. Ben now has to have assistance to do these simple things and is understandably discouraged. We had a good talk with him about where he was a couple of weeks ago and how far he has come, and reminded him of the friends and family who are praying for him and cheering him on. The race is far from over, and he will finish it in good time.

On the medical front, his recovery is progressing well. His kidney function has improved to the point, that we understand no further dialysis will be necessary although he will continue to be on a special diet to facilitate further recovery of his kidneys. This is a "giant step", and we are all very pleased. Each day, Ben is getting stronger and able to do a little more.

As a family we appreciate all of the thoughts and prayers being offered in Ben's behalf. The words of support and encouragement from friends and family are helping Ben on his road to recovery, and make a real difference.

Ben's Dad

To all the Ben fans, (From Tuesday, August 12, Day 20):

Ben continues to improve, slowly but we hope surely – he is working so hard. It will be a long road to recovery, he is very weak and it’s pretty much like having had a series of small strokes – right now he cannot move himself from the bed, he has to learn “how to transfer” from the bed to a wheelchair so that he can get himself to the therapy gym in order to as Jim so succinctly put it “go into the torture chamber” and come out on the other side having re-learned some basic self care skills before they can even work on occupational skills. Walking - they hope will come after some more therapy! Yesterday, he stood for a few seconds - propped up by two therapists, but he stood - he doesn't have sensation in his right foot yet, so much of what they are doing is working some of those muscles so they won't atrophy further. The damage from his coma and complications is very random - on one leg, his quad muscle is weak but his hamstring is strong and it's almost the opposite on the other leg. His right wrist and arm are very weak but his grip is almost equal in both hands - he will have to both rebuild muscle tissue and re-learn how to use those muscles. His doctor explained that this is not like rehabbing from a knee replacement or other surgery where they have a well defined series of steps that show them what level he has achieved. Although they are confident that he will regain his strength and be able to take control of his life at some point they just can't tell us when that point will come. I was cautioned that this process will take time - probably several months, and we need to take it one day at a time. We recognize that it's important to walk that fine line in encouraging Ben and not pushing unrealistic goals on him. The true Ben is back, sweet and loving, but some of his extraordinary gifts will take some time to return and they take a back seat to the recovery of his ability to walk, eat, and care for his basic needs.

There are a number of what is called ADL’s – activities of daily living that he will need to re-learn. It isn’t a simple thing to wake up from a lengthy coma under any circumstance, but with the rhabdomyolysis and type of hypoxic brain injury Ben suffered, it just underscores what a true miracle it is to have him here, and here with his personality and memory intact!

Yesterday, there was mix-up in the scheduling of his dialysis so it was late afternoon when the technician started the process and as happens quite often, Ben's blood clotted a filter about halfway through the regimen. The technician at first decided to stop for the day, (which Ben and his parents thought was a fine idea since Ben's dinner had already been delivered, and Ben was hungry) but, without explanation, the technician hooked the lines back up and began all over again - so it was 7:30 PM before Ben got a chance to eat instead of 4:30 PM and that plain spaghetti and steamed carrots didn't re-heat well! He is on a renal failure diet - they are limiting all the electrolytic minerals he is getting in his foods in addition to fluids so that that fine balance can be maintained and no further damage to his kidneys will occur. There is the hope that his kidneys will regain more of their function.

Ben’s attitude over-all is very good, he knows he will have to work hard and he wants to do that – he is still so tired that I want to baby him a little but I know that that would be counter-productive to his recovery so sometimes I just have to leave the room and let the therapists work him over – and he is in such a good facility that I know they will all be working for him, too!

Thank you for your prayers and support, we are very grateful to have received such a wonderful miracle, Ben knows this is a second chance for him.

Ben's Mom

Breakin' a sweat

Ben did great in his first rounds of physical and occupational therapy at the rehab center today, impressing the staff with how hard he tried. And yes, he did break a sweat. But this was the sweat of deserved accomplishment, not the sweat of just a two and a half weeks ago when his comatose body ran a fever. Ben's recovery will be all about regaining control. Mind over matter indeed.

Others perks of today were getting to wear storebought workout clothes instead of the inspid hospital gown. Clothes make the man, they say. Ben also got to dine in a chair instead of bed, ravenously shoveling his plate of peas. He gives good marks to this facility's cooking. Well . . . at least better marks than St. Mark's.

Ben's ongoing dialysis is not because he has no kidney function; rather, doctors hope the procedure will take pressure off those organs and help them recuperate fully. Ben has already shown some measurable improvement, such as producing urine. (Won't he be thrilled to know we're all interested in that?!)

Every little step is a move forward. Thank you, everyone, for your continued concern.

Jenni

August 9: On the Move Again

Today Ben took another big step on the road to recovery. He was transferred from St. Mark's Hospital to a rehabilitation center. When we arrived there a little after noon, he had just arrived and his good friend Annie was helping him to get settled in to his new digs. They say he will have a little time to rest this weekend, then on Monday "the games begin", and they will begin helping him to recover his strength and the ability to do some of the things that are presently difficult for him. Ben continues to have a good attitude and is looking forward to literally getting back on his feet. His body is still weak, but his will and spirit to succeed are strong. His progress to date has been remarkable, and although he still has a long way to go we still hope for a speedy and complete recovery.

Ben's Dad

Above and beyond

Ben is drawing from a great work ethic. When coached to lift himself up in his hospital bed for 10 seconds, he did it for 15. He also surpassed his therapists' expectations when he sat upright, unsupported, for three minutes. (I'm not sure how well I'd do on that one! You try, too!) Ben is no slouch.

He thus rightfully earned a promotion from the hospital to a rehabilitation facility, where he moved today. He likes his bigger, sunny room with beautiful views. He'll get to rest this weekend, then it's on to a rigorous work-week therapy schedule starting Monday. He'll work for an intense three-hour block with physical, occupational and speech therapists. (The speech therapy will help him iron out swallowing and chewing difficulties.) Then it's lunch break, followed by a three-hour dialysis session in the afternoon (with a nap strongly encouraged!)

Ben has told nurses that he wants to work as had he has can. He is such an inspiration to me!

Ben has left his mark on many. The doctor who first treated Ben, back on that awful July 23, this week asked my parents to please keep in touch -- he'd like to know the wonderful turns this story takes. He, too, recognizes the miracle. Perhaps because of his medical expertise, he knows it more emphatically than us. It means a lot to our family that the doctor still cares for Ben even after he has left the hospital.

So, Ben, keep giving us good news to report! We love you.

Jenni

2 Weeks + 1 day: The recovery continues

Although some time has passed since the last post, it's not because Ben has not been making progress. The therapists are constantly amazed at his progress, and every time they set a target or benchmark, he exceeds their expectations. Physically, he still has some weakness on his right side (it is good that he is a lefty!), and they are still helping his kidneys recover with dialysis. The best thing to report is that Ben knows where he is, why he is here, and most importantly, where he is going. He has established some goals for his life and is working hard to achieve them.

It is truly a blessing to be part of Ben's miracle and see him pick up on this "second chance" for his life and run with it. Thanks to all of Ben's friends and family for their love, support and prayers.

Ben's Dad

Day 13: On the move

Here's Ben in his new digs, in a private hospital room. He made the move out of the ICU today. We all know that Ben loves computers and gadgets, but I don't think he'll miss any of his former medical monitors and beeping screens one bit.

He has an IV (in his left arm) delivering fluids, and still has a catheter. His kidneys are doing better and better. The ports you see in his neck have actually been there a few days; among other things they're for drawing blood without having to poke him again and again.

Ben had just completed dialysis before my visit. We're told this procedure is exhausting. Indeed, Ben seemed a bit glassy eyed and slow. There's a lot going on in that head! Sorting it all out must be a chore. Yet there's intelligence at work. Our conversation was peppered with Ben's political and cultural references, everything from Osama Bin Laden to Batman.

Ben recognizes that each step he's taking is meaningful. He proudly announced that he was able to eat his first hospital meal today, even if he was disappointed that it wasn't vegetarian. (I'm sure he'll be assertive about this!)

I got to hear Ben's cute little chuckle today. I told him how grateful I am he's doing better. "God was watching over me," he said.

He still is, little brother, he still is.

This is a shout-out to Annie: Thank you for your support of Ben and all you've done for him and our family. You've been a bright light to me, especially on July 24 (Day 2) when you gave me a hug and told me to never give up. You gave me an earlier photo of Ben that you'd brought to the hospital, printed with the message, "Believe: Miracles Happen Every Day." That seemed then, too good to be true. But how right you were! Thank you for your faithful optimism.

Jenni

P.S. My daughter (age 6) just sauntered in the room and saw this post with Ben's new picture. "I think the prayers for him to get better must have worked," she said with a big smile. You betcha!

Day of Rest

Ben was exceptionally bright and alert during his parents' visit today. He still itches to get out of the hospital ASAP, yet knows he's too weary just yet. Ben got very quiet toward the end of the visit, then slipped into sleep.

He's still dealing with a fever, and his heartrate today was in the 110s. Gone is the oxygen mask he required for the last couple of days, though, so that's great.

Mom asked Ben if he knew what he'd need to do to get better. Yes, he said, pray a lot. What simple faith.

I was struck today by a hymn sung in church. It's one I don't believe I've ever heard before, "Does the Journey Seem Long?" -- number 127 in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints hymnal. Here are the first three verses, penned by Joseph Fielding Smith:

Does the journey seem long,
The path rugged and steep?
Are there briars and thorns on the way?
Do sharp stones cut your feet
As you struggle to rise
To the heights thru the heat of the day?

Is your heart faint and sad,
Your soul weary within,
As you toil 'neath your burden of care?
Does the load heavy seem
You are forced now to lift?
Is there no one your burden to share?

Let your heart be not faint
Now the journey's begun;
Thre is One who still beckons to you.
So look upward in joy
And take hold of his hand;
He will lead you to heights that are new.

We're right beside you in this journey, Ben. We love you!

Jenni

Update on Ben - Day 11

Ben is continuing to improve and the last two days he has been able to get some much needed rest. Today his heart rate stayed consistently below 100 beats per minute and his breathing is slower and much more effective. The cadre of therapists that are working with him give him a pretty good workout, so between their sessions he takes a much needed rest. Ben is a fighter, and continues to make good progress. One thought we hear constantly from the nurses who attend him is how Ben is so kind and cooperative as they poke, prod, and put him through a series of challenges. He knows, as do we, that the journey ahead is going to be a long one. While he sprinted out of the starting blocks earlier this week, he is settling down to the steady pace it takes to finish a marathon.

When I look back at where Ben was a week ago, I am so grateful for the progress he has made. I cannot help thinking that Ben is not only in a better place than he was one week ago, he is in a better place than he was two weeks ago when his life was spinning out of control.

Thanks to all for your love, concern and support.

Ben's Dad

Day 11: Slow and steady wins the race

The way Ben bolted out of the starting blocks on Wednesday, we hoped his race to recovery would be a sprint.

Instead, we're learning it's a marathon.

Ben's crowd-wowing breakthroughs (like moving, awaking and talking) are being joined by the less dramatic and less measurable acts of slow healing. Ben seems to be leveling out, settling in as his body works to get better. Finding a pace. Dad says everything is progressing probably too slow for us, but it is progress. A week ago we feared the worst. To now have a racer at all for us to cheer on is victory enough.

Slow can be good. One thing we like being slower is Ben's heartrate. Saturday found it hovering in the 90 beats per minute range, a vast improvement over July 26 (day 3) when I watched it register as high as 159. He is thus responding well to the heart medication recently given to him. His breathing is also slower and more effective.

Ben is now producing urine. This is great news, and as he continues dialysis for 2-3 hours a day, we hope his kidneys will get stronger and stronger. Doctors hardly comment about his liver anymore, except to say it looks good.

Doctors wondered if a sinus infection was the culprit of Ben's elevated temperature. Tests instead point to a possible abscessed tooth, so Ben's getting a broader spectrum antibiotic. (Stay on top of dental care, everyone!)

Ben worked with a speech therapist today, answering an ICU disorientation quiz on such topics as what season it is, is it day or night, etc. He did fine.

Mostly, Ben is very, very tired. He should be! He gabbed for two straight days, supplying us with many entertaining Ben-isms that we're sure will become the stuff of legend around the Thanksgiving dinner table. (Aren't we all loopy when we're not well-rested?)

He's sleeping much more deeply now, and seems rather subdued when awake. Dad says Ben is much more reserved in what he says, but that what he does say makes sense. Ben definitely understands where he is and why.

Ben has a feeding tube again. Is this a step backward? Well, even Olympic-level runners have to pause to tie a shoelace now and again. One nurse reminded us it's OK to go back a few steps, as long as you take more steps forward. We believe Ben is doing just that.

Our family remains forever grateful. Each day gives us more than we had the day before.

Thank you for all your prayers.

Jenni

Friday Musings

As I reflect back on the events of the past 10 days, I am struck with how rapidly things can change. One week ago, we were gathered around Ben, wondering if he would survive. On Thursday, July 24th, the CCU doctor told the family that Ben's chances for survival were going down and after the first 72 hours, his recovery chances would be less than 5%. As we sat there, looking at the graph the doctor had drawn on the back of a kleenex box, my immediate thought was, "We are just 24 hours into the battle, so we have got a long way to go before we hit the bottom of the curve". Now, one week later even though we went past the 72 hour window on the graph, we have seen Ben wake up and have had the pleasure of talking to him, loving him and having him respond. I noted earlier that today was not one of Ben's best days. A big part of this is because we witnessed the exponential improvements on Wednesday and Thursday, we just hoped he would continue to improve at the same rate. He is still the same Ben, but he is a very ill young man. He continues to exhibit a fever and his heart rate continues to hang around 120 beats per minute. His heart, which we found out today is not healthy has been beating at this elevated rate for over 10 days now.

All of the doctors who attend to him tell us the same thing. After reading the reports from when Ben was admitted to the hospital they comment that it is truly a miracle that he is here. The also comment that he is a very alert and intelligent person and very aware of what is going on. His cardiologist, a native of India, said that after visiting with Ben, Ben's parting words to him were in the doctor's native language. . . he was impressed.

Again, thanks to all of you who care about Ben and have expressed your love and support. You have made a difference in our lives and Ben's.

Ben's Dad

Day 9: Keeping Ben in mind

We've learned from an MRI that Ben has suffered brain damage in both hemispheres. What precisely this means for his longterm prognosis is yet to unfold. What's certain is that he'll require longterm rehabilitation.

Although discouraging, this news of brain damage does not cheapen the miracle of Ben's experience one bit for me. He is alive! His miracle is a miracle of survival. We're in this with Ben for the long haul.

Yesterday Ben said his head was swimming and that he felt like he was drowning. Quite poetic and astute, I think. Poor thing is so confused. Yet he's where he needs to be with expert medical care, surrounded by people who love him. I hope when he breaks through the water and comes to the surface that his outlook will be brighter than ever before.

Because of Ben's various treatments and his need to rest we, with the hospital staff, ask that people respect the ICU's policy of family visitors. But please, please, please send your uplifting messages that we can read to Ben when we visit him. We know there are so many people out there who love him too.

There's power in positive thinking.

Jenni

Day 8: The talk of the town

Ben is talking!

When I walked into his hospital room this afternoon Ben glanced up and matter-of-factly told the nurse, "This is my sister." I was floored. His progress defies explanation.

He is tired, groggy, frustrated, tired, weak, impatient and -- did I mention it? -- tired. Yet what a trooper! He tried to smile a bit for me in this photo today. Curse those dim hospital rooms, they never have enough natural light. Ben's eyelids balked at the flash every time, but I love the look of determination this photo captures.

Nurses, be warned! The whole visit Ben kept saying, "Let's go . . . Let's get out of here . . . Help me get up." I don't think he understands the magnitude of his condition right now, nor his limitations. He still is a very sick young man. Maybe he will be spared the complete realization of this until the time when both his body and mind are healthy. What a story we'll have to tell him then. For now, my prayers will include a new request that Ben can be granted an extra measure of patience to endure his physical recovery.

As you can see from the photo, Ben does not have a ventilator tube, just the oxygen line in his nose. His breathing today was shallow and rapid, sometimes reaching 40 breaths per minute. Nurses want it in the 12-25 breaths range. With coaching, Ben can take deeper breaths.

Today Ben had a nutrient drink. He worked with a physical therapist to try to stand, and with an occupational therapist to sit up at the edge of his bed. These two specialists will work with him daily.

His high temperature is still a concern. It responds to Tylenol, suggesting that the fever is not due to his body's inability to regulate temperature, but rather because of some "mystery bug." So Ben is also receiving antibiotics.

Ben wiggled his toes today when the neurologist asked him to. It took dogged persistence, I could see, but Ben did it.

He also told this doctor, "I feel a billion times better." So do we as Ben's family. Thank you for all of your love and prayers. Our hearts are full of gratitude.

Miracles happen

We are witnessing miracles, my mom says. When asked today to grip Mom's hand if he could hear her, Ben squeezed her fingers. Dad asked Ben to open his eyes in response to a question. Ben's pulsing eyelids revealed his effort, but when he just couldn't do it, he instead clasped his hands together and lifted them as a different affirmative sign.

Ben now has a strong breathing pattern on his own. He has been on a ventilator since Wednesday, one that essentially filled in the gaps when he wasn't taking strong enough breaths or enough of them. If he can keep up this effective breathing he's on schedule to have the ventilator removed.

A second EEG was done Monday. It still showed abnormal brain wave activity but is an improvement over the EEG performed last Thursday. Ben's boss pointed out, though, that we all know Ben is wired differently! And don't even get my family started on references to the movie Young Frankenstein. "Just whose brain did you get?" "Uh, Abby someone?"

Ben has tried to sit up. I mentioned yesterday that nurses had to restrain his left arm. Now they've followed suit with the right. Otherwise Ben would most likely get his way and tug at all the wires and tubes that seemingly annoy him.

I like this show of will. It reminds me of when my daughter was born 10 years ago as a preemie, and how heartened we were when in the early moments she resisted all the poking and prodding. Even if the neonatalogist labeled her a "snot" for doing so.

I can't help thinking of that time in our lives; we celebrated Emma's birthday the day before Ben was hospitalized. In fact, because the hospital's departments have shifted, she was born in the very corridor where Ben now heals. Emma's birth was a time when we felt the power of prayer. To be feeling so many of the same emotions in such close proximity has alternately drained and bolstered me. Mostly though I recognize the same feeling of comfort and support from our Father in Heaven. I continue to pray for another miracle.

Jenni

Good news!

I begin this blog on a high note, with the news that Ben has briefly opened his eyes and lifted his arms. These developments, though small, brought hope to my heart when I sorely needed it. I learned of these events through a joyful play-by-play my mom left on my answering machine Sunday afternoon. "Are you ready for some good news?" she began. I surely was. I will never erase this message. I've already replayed it several times, remembering my tearful, happy gasp at her words. Ben opened his eyes! He lifted his arms!

So far, though, there's another phone message that I haven't yet erased -- the much sadder one that began this whole saga.

This message, too, was left by my mother. Sit down, she said. Ben is in Intensive Care at St. Mark's Hospital. He's in a coma.

It was Wednesday, July 23. We learned that Ben had taken too many pills of perhaps too many prescriptions. He had pressure sores on his feet and back when paramedics responded, suggesting he'd passed out and been in one position for many hours before, compromising blood flow. His breathing was shallow. His liver and kidneys were failing. White blood counts showed some sort of infection, and his heart raced.

What a difference five days can make.

Today, Monday, July 28, Ben brings his left arm (he's a southpaw, you know) toward the ventilator tube or monitor wires. His movements are so purposeful, nurses have taken to restraining him so he won't pull something out! He "acts properly annoyed," says one nurse, grimacing when his teeth are swabbed, scowling at the insertion of a feeding tube.

Dad's voice prompted that wonderful eye movement on Sunday. Of course we all want Ben to open his eyes for us too. I'm happy thinking that the fluttering of his eyelids when I talked to him later that night was a valiant try for such a tired, weak body. (Besides, that net of dark eyelashes must be heavy!) Still, Ben could visually track the source of Jeff's voice when his eyelid was lifted. He also blinks in response to bright lights.

Ben's temperature is doing better, as is his heart rate. He's sporting some pretty awesome pressure stockings and furry booties to help with blood flow and muscle position. He undergoes daily dialysis.

Now knowing that Ben has taken baby steps makes it easier -- but maybe only slightly -- for me to process this all. Ben has a long way to go, I know. My feelings are very tender. Some I can't even deal with right now. I've never thought I could go through so many emotions in such a compressed time.

I'll let my family chime in as they're able, but I think I can safely speak for all of them when I say we have felt so buoyed and loved through this experience. Thank you, all of our fellow Ben fans, for your support. We know without a shadow of a doubt that Heavenly Father loves Ben because we feel His love for us.

I encourage you to check this blog for updates on Ben's condition. Please feel free to leave a comment, to share a joke, a poignant story, or words dear to your heart. We value your support more than you'll ever know.

Help us write a wonderful story for Ben to read soon.

Love,
Jenni