Monday June 8 evening

I write this with a feeling none of us have had in almost 7 days, and that is EXCITEMENT. This afternoon, John seemed to be tracking us with his eyes and at first we were somewhat cynical but some things have happened which have convinced us that he is hearing voices and following where they are coming from. I simply cannot express how wonderful it is to see him looking at us after his inability to do so for what seemed like so many hours. His neurologist came in tonight about 6:30pm and yelled, "John, wake up", and John opened his eyes all the way as if to tell the doctor to stop yelling at him. He also did the test where he holds John's arm up and over his head and drops it and John prevented his own hand from hitting his face...four times! The neurologist told us that he is progressing by inches which is a great thing to hear and we will take millimeters so inches are even better.

All tubes are out of John except his urine catheter (gotta wait until he is ambulatory to get that one out), and two IV lines on either side of his neck. One of these IV lines will remain for dialysis purposes and the other is to administer medications. Tomorrow, they will put a very small tube up his nose and down his throat and into his stomach so that they can provide adequate nutrition for the day and then they will remove it. This is to keep John from having to swallow, since he still cannot do that on command and to keep him from choking. He is at times moving his head and gripping our hands but still not on command which everyone thinks is because he is still "asleep". We aren't sure if this means coma or just that he is still trying to work the sedation out of his system but he is more alert this afternoon than he has been since last Tuesday night.

Today, we put tennis shoes on him. This is to prevent what is called "drop foot". Laying in bed with your foot relaxed can cause the calf muscles to get lazy which will make it much more difficult during physical therapy. He looks really cute with his hospital gown and red and black running shoes on! My aunt (we call her Honeygal) brought up the shoes from Holly's house and when I asked her how she picked them out of the 20 something pairs of running shoes in his closet, she said because she thought they were pretty! I must tell you that John is the Imelda Marcos of running shoes. In any case, they are quite eye catching and fashionable in a way that only he could pull off!

We keep meeting people who John has touched, even while unconscious. There is a security guard who allowed me to park my car on a red curb sideways (twice) as I frantically ran in, barely able to beg her not to tow me or even to speak that I was there for John Harris, the first two days, who came by today. She said that she remembered John being brought in and had been told he was 39 and she has seen all of the people who have come to visit and she felted touched by him. She makes her rounds and intentionally comes by John's room in the intensive care unit just to see how he is doing. There is also the gift shop manager who asked me, after I came in for the third time in a row, who I was visiting and I told her about John and she said, "Oh the 39 year old who had a heart attack". I hate that that is his current moniker around the hospital but love that we are a massive enough group to keep the gift shop, coffee shop and no doubt the cafeteria afloat and in good financial standing for at least the next year! They will probably soon be charging all Harris visitors for parking so that they can pay off the new wing of the building.

This is also true of the many people who helped resuscitate him over the first 24 hours. Each of them comes into the room and has a look of surprise and awe. To see him off the ventilator and breathing on his own and without quite so many tubes in him revitalizes us with belief and hope and yes, excitement. Even more special is that they seem to have the wisdom that comes with seeing lots of patients and probably not many of them survive what John has been through. John just keeps on keeping on and in the words of one of his doctors...He is one tough man.
When John yawns he sounds like a giant grizzly bear! It's sort of a roar as if he is trying to escape his hibernating den. I think hibernation is an excellent analogy and for John, spring happens sometime in June. He is staying safe in his den until the time is right for him to slowly emerge, hungry for all that life has held for him to devour.