I like it when you're here

James had another responsive day in the NICU.  Robert helped me to understand how to use James's ipod with a speaker which enabled us to access playlists that he has created for his painting class at the 92nd Street Y.  One of his brilliant students, Heidi Salgo, thought James would enjoy hearing his own playlist and she was correct!

A few years ago, we were visiting James's brother in Napa, driving though that lush landscape of vineyards and oak trees which required a soundtrack. As James's nephew and niece grow older, they have their own idea of car driving music and there was a bit of back and forth about what to play in the car. I think we may have settled on Johnny Cash at some point.  Today, James truly perked up upon hearing the man in black strum his guitar and sing!

James opens his eyes now and then when people or voices he recognizes are in the room and is aware of what is occurring. The neurological team came by later in the afternoon on their rounds and had a new doctor in the pack. This new doctor went through the usual routine by asking "Mr. Sheehan, open your eyes," "Mr. Sheehan, show us two fingers" but James was unresponsive. Then, our lovely NICU floor doctor who has been so attentive and invested in James's recovery, said, "James, open your eyes" and he quickly responded.  He said, "Show us two fingers James" and of course, he did.  I think James was being stubborn with the new guy.

We also had a visit with the infectious disease team and they are content with the progress as well. They are dropping another antibiotic treatment to focus on two.  The antibiotics were more wide spectrum in the beginning to battle a variety of bacteria. However, now that they have narrowed the source to his mouth, they are able to use only the most powerful antibiotics to fight bacteria from that specific source.  If James is able to maintain his responsiveness, the doctors will be able to remove the breathing tube. That would make James so happy because he truly dislikes the occasional suction to clean the tubes.

It is still too soon to discuss next steps or rehabilitation.  We are happy he is alive and I sincerely believe the doctors are as well.  One of the neurologists on the team admitted he was concerned with the days of unresponsiveness.

I am in this for the long haul and I hope that all your positive energy does not wane until James is transferred to a regular hospital bed.  Keep up the work attending to those creative projects and being thoughtful in your daily activities and in your relationships with others.

James and I are ridiculously old-fashioned about our idea of communion with others. We are hoping that this experience is an opportunity for everyone to turn off their devices and really look into the eyes of their partners, children, adoring pets (our cat B misses James so much), and the person that serves you coffee or the man blocking the door in the subway car!

As you may know, I am not a social media person. I left Facebook after reading a London Review of Books article that substantiated all my worse assumptions which I posted as a final gesture (a pop up screen then asked me why I was dissatisfied with Facebook since the article was most likely tagged in their system).  I started this blog as a means to communicate with James's loved ones and avoid platforms such a Facebook. James adores Facebook--he saw it as a medium to be in touch with his wide ocean of friends and communities.  A social animal such a James could not turn away from it, no matter how many arguments I presented to him. We agreed to disagree with regard to his use of it.

James and I do not own smart phones (or dumb ones either).  When James became ill, the technological world insisted on entering my life.  Our friend Naomi Hassebroek had the common sense to call me an Uber (no this is not a paid advertisement) to rush me to the hospital after I consented to James's emergency brain surgery.  The driver was incredibly kind as I sobbed in the back seat. He told me about his son that was rushed to the emergency room with an asthma attack. It was such the perfect thing to share with me--he was quiet and understanding through out the journey and I had the luxury of not looking at a meter and trying to comprehend an appropriate tip.

This is my long-winded way of coming to the point that friends have asked me, "Have you set up a Go-Fund Me site yet?"  My immediate reaction was of course, HELL NO.  A very rational and caring friend of mine, Deb Davidovits made me see the light, so to speak, that it would be a way to give people the opportunity to do something for James, Imogen and me.  It's a gift.  After thinking it over, I agree to Deb's kind offer and she has created a site. Here is the link: https://www.gofundme.com/support-james-sheehan. She suggested that I make it a link on the blog so it will not be buried within this post. I will try to figure that out tonight. I confess to having had a glass of wine with the delicious sauce and raviolis that our dear friends Alan Wiener, Marsha Cottrell and their daughter Sylvia brought over and its had an effect on my thought process.

I would like to thank everyone that has written such encouraging words and shared their love for James with us.  I have heard from those, like me, who are uncomfortable expressing themselves in a public forum by email and yes, snail mail.  Blow us a kiss into the sky and it will reach all three.

My hope is to provide even better news in the coming days. Deb has an amazing porch in her backyard up near Beacon that has a view of trees, birds, and the wind as it moves through the branches.  My wish is to have James up there to toast to his health and to those who kept us in their hearts during this time.