I once had to make a sculpture project for art class, I must have been around 8 or 9. I got some clay and shaped it into a camel, it was a flat, two-dimensional piece of awesomeness. He had a sweet long camel neck, lanky camel legs and some totally super happening camel humps. I lay him out flat on a tray and put him in the oven to harden. My dad came home that night and reckoned that someone had obviously made a pretty epic cookie and proceed to try to eat it, camel legs first. Needless to say awesome Mr. Camel didn’t fair well, quite likely exasperated by the fact that I had probably found the clay somewhere outside in our garden (high quality) and that the drying process was not exactly of a kilns degree of accuracy (baked that guy at 360•)

He felt pretty terrible about trying to eat my art project and there was some failed effort to glue it back, but sadly Mr. Camel lay in the better parts of a crumbly mess. Jim has always taken in charge and been in control. Why, if he sees a camel shaped cookie, gosh darn he is gonna eat that bastard. Seeing him again today in such an unfamiliar capacity of non action is shocking all over again, and it makes me love him that much more. Because he is so strong and he is trying so hard, under very taxing circumstances, to keep his spirits up, even if it’s only for us right now.

Trudy seems best able to understand his silent lip-reading-required-voice while I just guess wildly in the dark; “Dad, you want a Potato wagon?” “you like a house of porridge pies?” “bat fingers?” I have always been quite rubbish at lip reading. It’s my job.

In setting him up with an iPad movie this afternoon, it took mum and I way too long in an overly extended game of charades and alphabet spelling to figure out that he wanted his glasses and not to watch a show about eyes or spying (We have both had some long nights, so are not really firing all brain cells effectively)

We are hoping to get him out of the ICU and onto the ward sooner than later as his recovery is far more likely to be productive to his mood and overall well-being out of such an isolated environment.
The limitation is the ventilator, as he needs to stay on that to ensure his lungs stay clear and pneumonia free. We are looking into potentially sourcing a second hand one to buy… I mean who doesn’t want to own a ventilation machine? “Lung Party at Our House, whaoooo!”

Still so many uncertain avenues ahead but one more day down. One more.

Many people on this flight seem to have taken the baggage allowances as more of a passing suggestion than an airline requirement.
One family of two adults and a toddler collectively have nine pieces of luggage. I am guessing math isn’t their thing. His mother has shovelled a very steady stream of what looks like a sugar coated donut into his mouth at each indication of his boredom at how uneventful standing in a long line is. I can’t help but wish someone would shovel food into my mouth when I was bored and also simultaneously hope that this sugar laced child will not be sitting next to me on the flight.

I am checked in and set to arrive at 5am and am keen to see everyone again. Also I expect that dad is likely quite bored with Trudy’s company now and will be most certainly thrilled to see his favourite daughter again. Don’t worry dad, I am on my way.