Note from Noah: Due to hospitalization, my friend Molly offered to write the blog today. Thanks to everyone who stopped by yesterday, it really lifted my spirits.
I'd like to give you a glimpse through my eyes of what Noah was like in the hospital last night:
Despite being weak, (vocally) silent and in tremendous pain, Noah was in remarkably good spirits.
He was present; he fought valiantly to keep up in conversation by typing things on his laptop or on his phone as quickly as he could and passing them to someone so they could be read aloud to the room (a group consisting of 2 of our friends in addition to Bob and Steve).
He was inquisitive and thoughtful; countless times throughout the night, he would make individual inquiries (by typing them on his phone and then handing it to the person with whom he wished to communicate) about how we were doing, what was happening in our lives, what we thought or felt about this or that particular thing, etc. He let a friend of ours know that he was trying to help her find a job at another friend's company. We were all there for him, but it's clear that he is still here for us.Despite being weak, (vocally) silent and in tremendous pain, Noah was in remarkably good spirits.
He was present; he fought valiantly to keep up in conversation by typing things on his laptop or on his phone as quickly as he could and passing them to someone so they could be read aloud to the room (a group consisting of 2 of our friends in addition to Bob and Steve).
Most of all, he was FUNNY! He made it comfortable and easy for everyone to laugh, and would type out hilarious, dry responses to things that were being said in the room and follow them up with a mimed Ba-Dum-Bum-CHING! (complete with invisible drumsticks) to punctuate the punchline. At one point, he was chatting online with an acquaintance who believed that he was lying about having cancer and being in the hospital. Nothing he said could convince her. So he tossed me his phone, motioned for me to take a picture (PROOF!), then struck a pose: one hand giving a thumbs up, the other angled so as to draw attention to the IV sticking out of it, his face sporting as wide a grin as he could manage. I was laughing so hard I could barely hold the phone steady enough to snap a photo. I realized I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him really smile. It was so heartening, such a tremendous relief.
I figure that by sharing this with you, I'm just passing along the smile.
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