Carrying some of the heaviness

It's been over 3 weeks now since the Miller's accident. Writing those words feels so crazy. It feels like so long ago and yet, we are still very much in the thick of it.

After posting my last blog post, Levent and I returned home for 4 grueling days of being in Kansas. Once we concluded our short work week, we headed back to St Louis to be with the Millers for an extra long, Labor Day weekend.
And things are going okay. I have found that in moment of crises, I am the type of person who is ultimately optimistic. As I told a co-worker recently, I don't think I would be able to get out of bed in the mornings if I wasn't.
During our time in St. Louis, lots of good things happened. Shirley was able to open her eyes. (They had been swollen shut because of the intense surgery she had on her face). She also communicated with us via pen and paper. Wilbur made it to a new level of cognitive awareness. (Let me tell you, waking up from a coma is nothing like the movies). There was even one moment when Wilbur called Levent a nickname that only he calls him and I almost fell to pieces. I count each of these small victories and hope even harder.

Even bigger news came at the end of our visit on Tuesday when the hospital told us that the Millers were ready to be discharged to the rehab facilities at the Ohio State University Hospital in Columbus (which is where they live). Not only that, but their insurance was going to cover 100% of their transportation via ambulances to Ohio, (which, according to the SLU hospital social worker is practically unheard of in the insurance world).

These are all really good things. The sooner they are in rehab the better. But part of our new sucky reality though is that they are now 12 hours away instead of only 6 and half. I have no idea when we will be able to see them next. That's really hard.
While practically living life on the 6th floor of the SLU Hospital was hard, what is even harder is being far away. Maybe this sounds weird for me to say. After all, I am just Levent's girlfriend. But I hope that this group of people will be my in-laws some day and I care about them like they already are.

When we were out there, it was easier to know how to support them. Even if I was just sitting there, at least I could carry some of the heaviness with them. But now, back in Kansas. I once again feel at a loss. How do I support and and share in my boyfriend's struggle when ultimately, his pain is way deeper than mine? I am not sure.

But I keep trying. I guess that's the only thing to do for now.