In Deed

I sit there thirstily clinging to every movement and every word. Anxious. Happy. Excited. Jason doesn't speak. He tracks. Watching a person's movement as they enter a room. He hugs you back. He also punches and pushes you away, an effect of brain injury recovery. There's definitely aggressive behaviors in terms of his way of getting attention. But I'm told it's normal. No matter who he was, Brain injuries bring you back slowly and with bad behaviors first. He sat in his chair, and hugged Samantha and had to be stopped from trying to hold too tight. This is not Jason. This is the Anti-NMDA that loosens control slowly and still tries sneaky ways to continue to Jab at your life before giving it back to you.

There is no speech yet. The words I drink from are usually from the therapist who explains what different things mean to her and in essence what they should mean to me. The tracking is huge. The once sporadic behavior is now becoming an everyday thing. He shook his head to the harness for the wheelchair. He doesn't like it. He pressed the red button on FaceTime with me, I guess I talk too much. I'll take it. Every last drop of it because after I filter through all this bullshit I will have back my son. My beautiful baby boy is there. He has always been in there! Even when people came to visit and told me I should prepare for him not to be. Even when people wrote me their condolences on my Facebook wall. My son is not stopping and he never gave up and I never gave up on him. You cannot always trust what you see. You have to go with your heart. You have to go with what you know. I know Jason is coming out of this. I know I will be by his side and give him every tool He needs to get passed this. I know my son is going to be okay.