(If I had stars, I'd post 'em. I'm sure there're emoticons for this, but I don't do emoticons as it's all I can do to read letters, but I digress...)
This one's for you, Ed!
For those who know my brother, you can vouch for what I'm about to say ...
For those of you who do not, let me paint you a picture:
My brother is extremely outgoing. He is super talented. Most of all, he is super witty. To be brutally honest, he loves an audience. It started with an audience of one when in his childhood, his favorite act was to wait for J U S T the right second to crack a one-liner at the dinner table--(as in precisely when I'd chugged some milk) -- Guy honestly made it his goal each evening to see if he could get me to spew it out my nose...
May I take this moment, pre-Mother's Day to say, "Mom, we're sorry." (Bless her heart she got to clean up a lot of messes and I got a lot of early baths, but I do think that was the start of his career.)
In my teens, his talent took wing: he was front and center on Opryland stages: I was front and center, front row every chance I got. Seeing Ed in productions like "For Me And My Gal" and "I Hear America Singing" felt like knowing the cast of Chorus Line... As far as I was concerned, Opryland was Broadway and Ed, pure Broadway material.
As an adult Ed traded barbershop costumes for business suits, but (how to put it nicely) Ed hasn't changed much. In fact, he still likes attention and he's actually a bit of a control person. (See kid sister be kind.) He likes to know things, own things...be the first to share things --be on top of the latest. For all the love we share of music and comedy, I rolled my eyes when he PROUDLY posted a selfie of himself, #20 in line, waiting for the latest iPhone. (For the record: being in a mall, much less sleeping there overnight, to purchase a mechanical device is my idea of hell, but by gum, Ed was there, and darn proud of it!)
I share all this to say, that the Ed I'm seeing today is nothing but pure miracle...and by miracle, I don't mean he's amazingly up and walking...what I mean is that if you had told me a year ago that my brother would suffer a broken neck and all that entails, I would've said "Dear Lord, help us all." My brother likes to control things...and the thought of not controlling things like legs or stomachs or bowels, well, my brain had no place to file that.
But I'm here to report, Ed's got a new take on control and once again I find myself marveling at the foot of the master... To be honest, I would never have pegged him a good patient, but he's proven to me that I am the cynic in the family while he is king.
For those who have asked, Ed's spirits are high; his progress a bit slower than we would've liked, but he's a trooper. In his "loves attention" way, leave it to him to be stumping the world's finest doctors. While his spinal cord's not severed (and we did backflips over wiggly fingers and toes), his digestive system has taken a bit of a hit and we need him processing food before he can get checked into rehab. But lest you think this a setback (as is our tendency--shame on us) let me tell you about my brother today ...
For starters, I find it ironic, that for one who has suffered a broken back, he IS the back bone of this family. How he can lie there with no fear, defies logic, but if he has it, he ain't showing it. He is emotional, for sure. But his emotions aren't fearful ones...they are grateful ones --sheer, raw gratitude is all you'll see coming from Ed today.
Case in point: his first room in Vanderbilt's trauma unit (we've had several) faced the Life Flight helipad. I wasn't there the night it happened, but he shared with me that when the first flight came in his thought was "Crap. I'll never get sleep...Like I need that on top of everything else..." But then he added "It hit me...Whatever/whoever that copter is bringing in right now, is, in this moment, living their worst nightmare... So I began to pray. I decided I can't do much, but I can do this much. I can pray for whoever's being flighted in."
More personal yet, my brother says thank you--for EVERYTHING...A clean washcloth, a bed pan, a midnight (wake up) check of things...Thank you. Thank you.Thank you. He's wearing out the thank you's. At one point, while thanking me for an ice chip (and not just one...each and every one) I laughingly said, "Bro...I love you...And I KNOW you're grateful... I truly do...But you've got a tube up your nose and down your throat, what say to spare the vocal cords and take it as a given on the Thank you's...I KNOW you're grateful...and I love it, but for the sake of your throat... It's all good." to which he said, "Sis...it's the one thing I can do right now for myself...let me have it."
Normally I'd turn away so he wouldn't see me tear up....but these days tears have become our new language...
While we wait for his tummy and bowels to kick in and join the party, all I can say is his heart is doing double time...and his spirit, taking over.
Your prayers we do welcome. Colorful cards, just as much...And he can accept visitors, though there are rules for how many, so you might check first. We are hopeful that next week he'll be moved to rehab in Atlanta where I'll be by his side for as long as it takes...Will do my best to keep you posted in the meantime. I have begun a Caring Bridge page, but I've yet to have time to post anything, so consider you, my FB friends, the first to know...Please share the update if you know someone who's asking about Ed. Keep him, keep us in your prayers.
While what he's going through I would not wish on my worst enemy, I must say, I would not take anything for this journey...He strengthens my resolve every day.
Let's love him home...Your thoughts, prayers and well wishes are palpable...They lift us more than you could ever know...
Ed would want me to say to you all ... "Thank you!"
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