Monday, February 9, 2026 – Day 535

Monday, February 9, 2026

Good morning, everyone.

The Super Bowl is behind us. Having the squares pool added some excitement to what turned into a defensive struggle. Some of you were rooting hard for a score change, others praying for things to stay exactly as they were—hoping the numbers would finally lock onto your square. Congratulations to the winners, and thank you to those who donated their winnings back to ALS United.

We had a few people over for a pregame chili dinner and the first half of the game. Everyone seems well attuned to my early-bedtime routine. Once the halftime show ended, Nikki told four-year-old Wyatt it was time for bed. That was my cue to head upstairs too. Surprisingly, I managed to stay up and watch the game all the way to the end—a small victory.

This morning I woke up parched, as usual, and reached for some Bioténe gel to rehydrate my mouth. Doing this in the dark was a mistake. I squeezed a dab onto my finger and put it on my tongue—whoops. Way too much. As I tried to move it around, some of it started blocking my airway. Panic set in fast. I tried hard swallowing, but that only made things worse. There I was again, choking on something completely benign—something that’s supposed to help me. I spotted a box of Kleenex, grabbed a tissue, and quickly swiped the inside of my mouth to remove the excess before I passed out. It worked. I stayed seated for a while, catching my breath and calming myself down before continuing on with my morning routine.

Breathing has become my single biggest handicap. By midday yesterday, I had no choice but to hook up to the ventilator for a couple of hours and take a nap. I hated leaving the kids—we don’t see them often—but staying short of breath just isn’t a workable option. What’s frustrating is that when I check my oxygen saturation, the numbers look fine. The lowest SpO₂ reading was 93. On paper, everything’s “all good.” Nothing to worry about. And yet…

So for now, breathing will continue to dictate what we put on the calendar. Keeping things limited—and realistic—has to be the focus.

Just now, from the loft, I hear the morning call: “Helloooo,” followed quickly by a second, slightly louder “Helloooo.” I answered back, and that was Wyatt’s cue to come downstairs. He walked over, handed me his snow leopard, then leaned in for a long hug. That moment made my entire morning. After that, it was all about the TV.

Nikki and Wyatt head home today. It was a short visit, but I’m incredibly grateful we had it. These moments help keep me focused and strong, thinking about the next visit—and hoping it’s not the last.

I’ve got the rest of the day to read, nap, or watch the Olympics.

Have a great Monday. Love you guys! ❤️