We're hoping for a great recovery, but it's just too early to know.
We're confident that he's going to have a good outcome.
He has had an awakening. His eyes are open. He's looking around.
He has exceeded our expectations, and the recovery has progressed rapidly. It will probably take a year or so for complete recovery, but we're hoping he's out of the rehab facility fairly soon and able to go home with Anna and the children.
He is likely one of the longest survivors of this sort of exposure, not only carbon monoxide, but the other circumstances in the mine.
What you're seeing here today is a very early patient recovery. We are confident he is going to have a great outcome.
He's done so well, we couldn't keep him in any longer.
He is opening his eyes. He has purposeful movements. He responds to his family in slight ways. He moves all extremities.
It is probably too early for us to tell what that means, but it is very important to us that he has a lot of brain activity.
I think we have no clear clue of the extent of his injury or the time of his recovery.
I think every few days we have seen more and more responsiveness and meaningful neurological signs from him.
Our backs were against the wall. We had to use everything we could.
We are in many ways in uncharted territory, as far as predicting his recovery.
We consider him probably best described as in a light coma.
These are, we think, very important signs, perhaps, of an emergence. But we don't want to give false hope and we know that there is still a long way to go to making that recovery.
The best he has done is (responding to) localized pain something he doesn't like. He comes up to grab your hand.
The best he has done is (responding to) localized pain -- something he doesn't like. He comes up to grab your hand.
In many ways, we are in uncharted territory in predicting his recovery. The long-term outlook will be measured in weeks and months and not days.
In this business of taking care of severe head injuries, little things make us happy.