The crystal ball

Let's play a game. Let's pretend that you can see the future. Let us further imagine that you and I were chatting over a cup of coffee a month ago when we had the following conversation: You: 'Member how I can see the future? Me: Actually I'd forgotten, but yeah, okay. What about it? You: I had a vision about you the other day. Wanna hear it? Me: No kidding! Fun. Lay it on me. Am I gonna win the lottery or something? You: No, it's a little...weirder than that. A month from now, you will get on Facebook and announce, with great excitement, that your father urinated. And all your Facebook friends are going to be really happy to hear it. Me (pauses, tilts head, narrows eyes): Um...I don't think we can be friends anymore.

Well, it turns out your psychic prediction was right on the mark: I AM very excited to announce that Dad peed, and you ARE going to be really happy to read it!! (Sorry I was so mean to you in the pretend coffee shop, but you have to admit, that's just not something a girl envisions herself doing. Like, ever.) Because this means his kidneys are starting to function again. YAAAAY!!! They're still getting help from the dialysis machine, but this is a HUGE step in the right direction.

And that's not all: The glorified milkshake nasal tube is out!! And you know what's funny? I didn't even notice--he had to call my attention to it during our morning FaceTime. And you know why I didn't notice? BECAUSE HE SOUNDS NORMAL. He finally sounds like my Dad again. Oh man. What a great day.

Of course, this means that he really has to eat well to get enough calories and nutrition--which he started immediately by eating his Jell-O first. I'm no endocrinologist, but somehow I feel like that wasn't the healthiest choice for Dr. Wedell to make. When I started to make that observation to Dad, he said, "Life is short. Eat the Jell-O first." Touche, Dad.

He's been chilly the last few days (which is saying something, because usually he's a hot rock like me), and although they're not sure of the cause, I'm told it's not something we need to worry about. They've solved the problem in the short term by setting him up with a contraption called a Bear Hug (I swear I am not making that up): A sort of inflatable blanket that has warm air circulating through it. He LOVES it. So today, Team Eric, you can send him nice warm bear hugs!

As ever, THANK YOU for the love and prayers and energy and kindness and support you've been sending. I speak for my whole family when I say we could not get through this without Team Eric.