Suzy's Blog, the Christmas Eve Edition

Today started out much like yesterday ended, with Suzy grudgingly eating something every fifteen minutes or so. Then, around 11 AM, the nurse arrived with some meds, which Suzy has been taking ground up in some apple sauce. It took three consecutive spoonfulls in rapid succession, and that signaled the end of the bargain. No more.

Again, I was reduced to lecturing and begging. Suzy's mom arrived and joined me. And then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, between 13:00 and 14:00, it happened. She ate.

I gave her some jello. Gone.
Try a little more. Okay.
Here's lucky number three. No. Please? No.
Oh, c'mon, in a derisive tone. Well, alright.

For an hour, I continued the jello parade, until it was all gone. Then I started shoveling a pineapple and peach fruit cup, which was gone in another hour. We went grocery shopping, and I returned with some fruit sorbet, which Suzy ate continuously for another 45 minutes, before asking me to leave so I could come back later.

While I was home for dinner, Suzy's sister Ellen arrived from New Jersey, and the two of us returned for the final visiting hour. Suzy continued with the sorbet, so we are encouraged by that.

The best part of the day occurred around 8:30, with me sitting at Suzy's side feeding her and Ellen offering encouragement from across the room ("across the room" is a relative term, since the room is about six feet wide by ten feet long - add a hospital bed, and quarters are pretty tight).

Anyway, Suzy, who is still incapable of any sound above a hoarse whisper, said, as loudly as she could manage, "Ellen!"

Ellen, who could barely hear her from the chair, answered, "What?"

Suzy, gravely: "I have something to tell you."

Ellen: "Okay." She quickly gets up, walks to Suzy's bedside, and anxiously leans her ear very close to Suzy's mouth. Ellen drove 8 hours today to hear her little sister's little whisper of a voice, and now Suzy has something to tell her. The anticipation in the tiny room is palpable. It hangs in the air. Finally, she whispers, almost below the threshold of hearing.

Suzy: "Get the fuck away from me."

I think the three of us together laughed harder than any of us have in the last month. And it was a moment provided by Suzy, and entirely of her own creation. Ever so slowly, my Suzy is coming back.