October 16th marked more than just another day in the hospital — it was a day filled with quiet victories, the kind that only families who have spent time in an ICU can truly appreciate.
Theo — the courageous little boy who has been surrounded by monitors, IVs, and the constant hum of machines for months — experienced a good day. In the context of long hospital stays, a good day signifies everything.
🌤️ The Day Hope Felt a Little Lighter
Life in the hospital follows a rhythm — medications, vital checks, feeding, ventilator adjustments, and repeat. Yet, occasionally, there’s a shift — a moment when progress breaks through the monotony.
Today was that moment for Theo.
Doctors weaned his Versed — a medication that helps him stay calm and rest. They increased his feeds, indicating that his little body is growing stronger and can handle more nourishment. The IV nutrition was reduced, and the ventilator settings were lowered.
While these changes may seem minor, they are significant milestones — each one a step toward independence, healing, and eventually, home.
Then came the most exciting news of all.
After months on a Bumex drip, Theo’s medical team completely discontinued it. They transitioned him to scheduled doses of Lasix and Diuril — a major indication that his kidneys are functioning well enough for less invasive management.
This also means that soon, Theo’s midline (a long-term IV in his tiny right arm) can finally be removed.
One less line. One less reminder of how fragile things once were.
💛 A Mother’s Hands, A Mother’s Courage
However, the true triumph today wasn’t just in the numbers or medications — it was in a mother’s hands.
Theo’s mom had the opportunity to perform trach care for the first time — cleaning and changing the ties that secure the tracheostomy around his neck.
This delicate process requires calm hands and steady nerves. She had observed closely the night before, taking mental notes, preparing supplies, and whispering silent prayers.
And today — she succeeded.
Her hands trembled initially, but soon found their rhythm. She cleaned, changed, and secured everything flawlessly.
When it was complete, she exhaled, relief washing over her.
“I was so proud of myself,” she said, smiling through tears. “But even prouder of Theo — he tolerated it so well.”
In that small act, something powerful occurred. A mother reclaimed a little piece of normalcy. A little piece of control in a world that has taken so much.
🧡 Standing Tall — Literally
The sweetest moment came last night.
For the first time since his hospitalization, Theo’s mom held him standing. Not lying flat. Not connected to endless wires on a bed. But standing — his little legs wobbly, his head resting against her shoulder.
“It was such a sweet moment,” she said. “He enjoyed it. He looked around, curious, smiling.”
Today, Theo even sat up several times — taking in his surroundings like a child rediscovering the world. Each sit-up, each smile, each laugh is a celebration of resilience.
Tomorrow promises another beautiful milestone — Toby, Theo’s dad, will get to pick his son up by himself for the very first time.
A moment of connection. Of fatherhood. Of healing for both.
🙏 A Prayer for Protection
Yet, amid the joy, there’s still concern.
Hospitals, particularly pediatric units, are delicate ecosystems. Currently, a few of Theo’s neighboring patients are ill or being screened for viral infections. For children like Theo — who has fought so hard to regain strength — even a simple cold could pose a risk.
Thus, his mom requests what she has asked for all along — prayers.
Prayers for protection.
Prayers for continued healing.
Prayers that the progress made today continues to grow stronger tomorrow.
Because in rooms like Theo’s, hope is measured one day at a time — one breath, one line removed, one brave heartbeat after another.
🌈 One Day Closer
Today, Theo’s victories weren’t loud. There were no balloons, no crowds, no grand celebrations.
But for those who love him, today was everything.
One less medication. One less tube. One less barrier between Theo and the life waiting beyond the hospital walls.
As his mom sat by his side tonight, watching her son rest peacefully — freer, lighter, stronger — she whispered a promise into the quiet:
“We’re getting there, baby. One day closer.”
Because healing doesn’t always manifest in grand miracles.
Sometimes, it appears in moments like these — quiet, steady, and filled with love.
Theo’s journey isn’t solely about survival. It’s about the beauty of small victories — and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child who refuse to give up. 💛
