Late Thursday, September 4

Yesterday morning when I walked into Jilly's room she was sporting an orange-sherbet trache tube, which replaced the old lime-sherbet one. When I said "Good morning, Jilly. How are you doing today?" she whispered, audibly, "I'm good. How are you." That was enough to make my heart jump, so imagine how I felt this morning when I walked in, saw no sherbet tube at all, and heard her speak the exact same words!

So Jilly can now speak--hoarsely but understandably--and they bring her a tray of food three times a day. She eats a little, but is mostly interested in liquids: vitamin water, regular water, root beer. Now that soy latte is in her reach, it's not what she asks for.

I can't say enough about Jilly's occupational therapist, Rivky, and her physical therapist, whose name I keep forgetting (maybe I'm the one who needs therapy). She starts off the sessions saying she's just too tired, and could they come back later, but they jolly her along until she gives the activities a try. Today, after she had spent several minutes on the treadmill, I asked her how that felt. She answered, "Good. I was thinking maybe I could actually do this."

Some of these stories may sound as if Jilly is almost back to normal, and I don't mean to imply that at all. She's quite frail, still rather shaky, and confused about many things. But people who haven't seen her for a few days are amazed at her progress. We hope to learn more in a meeting with her doctors tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile, I need sleep!

As always, thanks to all.

Ingrid