I saw my brother today, but he didn't see me.  He's very heavily sedated -- you could say "mild induced coma."  The doctors can wake him easily, if they want; he does respond to some commands.  They are not monitoring the pressure on his brain anymore, though, and while I didn't ask about that specifically, I'm taking it as a very good sign.  He is still on the respirator; he can breathe on his own, but he has three or four fractured ribs on each side and it just frickin' hurts.  He has fractured vertebra in all three areas (cervical, thoracic and lumbar) -- one, two or three in each, some worse than others, some just hairline cracks (as far as they can tell right now) -- C7 is the one most likely to require surgery.  But that's still down the road a bit.  Baby steps.  One thing at a time.  Improving.  He was measured for a full body brace today, which he'll need only wear when upright, and he could be in the hospital for a very long time yet.  He'll be 44 on St. Patrick's Day and it sure would be nice if he was out, but I think we can party in the hospital if we have to.  ; )

Speaking of St. Patrick's Day, I still have a daughter in the U.K.  I was able to inform Katie yesterday about Michael's accident and it's weird, but okay.  She is leaving tomorrow night for a weekend trip to Ireland!  They're flying into Shannon and out of Dublin.  I think I'm going to transfer some money to her account so she can buy me some yarn, if anything speaks to her.  She might possibly go to Scotland yet, too (just over a month and a half before she comes home!), and I'd also like some from there.

A young lady come to the CCU waiting room this afternoon and spoke with the volunteer on duty.  The girl had a small vase of flowers and a card in her hand, and also a newspaper.  I noticed her as she took a seat while the volunteer went off into another area.  A few minutes later, the volunteer returned and asked us whose family we were.  We told her, of course, and we were exactly who the young lady, Mary, was looking for.  Mary doesn't know my brother or my sister-in-law or any of us, but she'd read about Michael's accident in the newspaper (the one she had in her hand) and said that she and her grandmother had been praying for him by name and she just felt moved to come...  Oh, yeah, I know!  We talked for a bit and hugged and thanked her for her thoughtfulness, and then the volunteer got out a fresh box of tissues...

There was laughter along with the tears at lunch this afternoon with my sister-in-law, my mother, and one of my sisters.  When my brother is the subject, there can be a laugh a minute.

Once, when Michael (the only boy among five kids) was probably 4 or 5 years old, he exposed his p*nis during breakfast with his sisters, totally freaking us all out and sending us, screaming, from the table.  When Dad found out why four bowls of cereal were left untouched, he made Michael sit down and eat every soggy morsel as punishment.