Day 2

BTW, we love you.

Day 2 and all the scary tubes are OUT!! This is great because now Ken doesn't need to lay flat on his back.  He just finished having an echocardiogram, which looked pretty to me, but then, I don't know how to read them.  I promised Caleb I would let him know results before I let you know, and I'm sticking to my word...it's easy because as of this moment, I know nothing.

Caleb drove up and spent a good part of the day today staring at Ken as he slept. Zoe and Ken's mom showed up this afternoon and did the same thing.  We still can't believe what has happened in the past 24 hours.  We are all still in a huge state of shock.

Now Caleb's gone back to Seattle, Zoe left for a prearranged engagement, and Ken's mom has gone home for the night.  It's relatively quiet in his room again, especially since the balloon pump is no longer in play.   It's just the two of us and I'm staring at him as he sleeps. The beeping machines are showing us his stable heart rate, healthy blood pressure and good blood oxygen levels.

The entire hospital is filled with amazing medical staff, and occasional employees that Ken knows socially and musically.   Chez Josef, while not a place I'd look forward to checking in to, is certainly worth the price of admission. The staff has been top notch.

Ken tried to read your comments to the post on his FB wall, but holding up his IPAD proved to be too much while laying flat on his back.  So I have spent a good part of the past 20+ hours reading him your FB posts, emails, texts, and playing your phone messages.  We are overwhelmed and grateful for your comments and good wishes...it's as if you are all right here, cheering him on, encouraging his every small step forward.  Good thing you are not here.  There are only two chairs in the room.

Thank you is not enough, but it's all I can muster at this very moment.

We have had a number of offers to bring food to us here, and since Caleb, Zoe, Ken's mom and I are about all the excitement Ken can tolerate today, I think we're ok for now.  Again, thank you.

They say it takes a village, and I know with your continued good wishes, Ken's full recovery will be swift, and he'll be back playing music and cracking bad accounting jokes really soon!

We love you.  I can't say that enough.