Notes from Rehab Room #100

You know how you get so absorbed with something, that after a week or two, you forget what you used to do?  That's how things have been around here lately.  Dad went in the hospital two days after Christmas, and helping him get situated and treated has been my focus since. 

After a few puzzling weeks, Dad's neurologist is assuming Dad had a small stroke.  His flailing limbs, sometimes slurred speech, and sensitivity to light and touch all point to some level of stroke activity.  There is no proof of this, because nothing new showed up on the brain scan; however the doc thinks the stroke occurred in the same area of the brain as Dad's 2007 stroke.   Damage upon damage doesn't reveal any new event.  But, Dad's new symptoms are very much indicative of stroke activity, not Parkinson's.

We are moving forward on this premise.  So, the doc is playing with meds, and Dad is receiving PT, to the point that he can.  He has good days and bad days.  He's unhappy with so many things, but loves having visitors and eating peach ice cream from the rehab bistro.  His brain is fairly clear, which almost makes it more difficult - he understands what's happened to him.  And he hates it.

I hate it too.  I pray all the time that Dad will remember God loves him and still has a plan.  I've told Dad several times that he is not his body - his declining body is just his EARTH SUIT.   It's not really who he is, but Dad never seems convinced.   He's a Navy guy from the Greatest Generation.  Strength and productive work are everything.

We're going day by day here, thanking God for small pleasures, like cozy slip-free socks, kind therapists, and Sr. Immaculata, who tells Dad she doesn't care if he's shaky and tremor-y.  "Once you're on your feet," she tells him, "we'll do the jitterbug."

I'm getting a picture of that.

The religion teacher and Dad just before Christmas

 

Rehab Reflections

I thought I would have popped in to Blogwarts before now....it's been over a week since my last post...but, as you may have heard - people make their plans, and God laughs. 

My 89-year old dad has been in the hospital and now in rehab since Dec. 26.  It appears he's had a medications upset, but also his Parkinson's seems to be progressing.  We've had a few scary days where the tremors were unmanageable without muscle relaxers.  PT and OT have not been as productive as we had hoped.  His emotions are all over the map.

Dad in November

We just go day to day, and it reminds me that we only have day-to-day anyway.   We are no more promised the next year than we are the next minute.  I've been sitting in the rehab cafeteria a lot lately while Mom and Dad visit, and in between reading Time magazine and sipping hazelnut tea I've reflected on things like this:

1.  Thank God for nurses and CNAs.  They have back-breaking work every day, and most of them are patient and kind.

2.  The nurses and CNAs that are crabby just need a hug and a word of appreciation.  They are so tired.

3.  How do I console my wonderful Dad when he is inconsolable?  It's so odd to be the strong one, and yet, have no answers.

4.  Watching world news in the cafeteria doesn't mean anything when a loved one is struggling.  Seems like world events should just stop for a while.

5.  Why are there never any healthy snacks in vending machines?

6.  I don't understand why the body hangs around after it's worn down, why the breath of life is so determined when the flesh seems ready to just be done.  Only God knows this.

7.   My dad has stopped shaving; he's letting his beard grow because he claims it's the only thing he can control anymore.  This makes me sad and smile at the same time.

8.  Strawberry milkshakes are a favorite pick-me-up for Dad.  He probably shouldn't have them, as they are not on the cardiac diet, but none of us care.  A milkshake-free life is not going to turn anything around at this point.

9.  When Dad is propped up in bed in his hospital gown and his fuzzy no-slip socks, he looks like a little kid, and I love to kiss him on the top of his head.

10.  Parkinson's is a puzzling and frustrating disease.  Treatment is hit or miss, trial and error, and a lot of "we just don't know."   Muhammad Ali and Michael J. Fox have come to mind a lot this week. 

11.  I don't understand why, after a day at the rehab hospital, I feel the need to get my PJ's on and watch hours of TV.   Or bake cookies.

12.  I'm so grateful my out-of-state siblings come visit our parents when they can.  I'm grateful my daughter teaches at a school across the street from Dad's rehab.  She visits him on her lunch break.

13.  People always say life is short.  When loved ones are struggling though, it seems life is long.  Only God can explain this too.

Sweeping into the New Year

The past four weeks, life has been full of emotion.

1.  Baby Juliet was born.  Her grandpa is my brother, the ex-clown.  He is over the moon about his second grandchild.  Even though they kept him locked outside the nursery. 

Juliet's tiny toes now greet everyone who visits this blog.  

2.   I experienced the wonderful awesomeness that is Les Miserables.  Hugh Jackman is so good; Anne Hathaway is painfully good.  I cried, and then cried some more.  Even Russell Crowe is decent.  Who knew he could sing?  Kind of.

                           

3. Christmas was wonderful, despite the fact that one son and daughter-in-law were absent and my normally enthusiastic Dad seemed a bit low-key.

4.  The day after Christmas, Dad's b.p. dropped and his legs gave out.  He was admitted to the hospital, where he stayed for five days.  He's now in rehab with a back-up of side effects from one medication and seemingly (but not confirmed) worsening Parkinson's symptoms.  More tests to come.

5. A second burner on my stove began to work intermittently (I already have one that heats only if I smack it a few times), so I decided the 22-year old relic was ready to retire.  The new stove (a flat-top - yay!) arrives on Saturday.  I hope I can figure the thing out. 

6.  Our daughter became a Godmother for the first time to the son of her best childhood friend.  We had so fun much smooching on this sweet child.  He's a happy little dude.  Our daughter and her friend are all grown up.  Sniff.  

6.   I discovered I'm the only one on the planet not watching Downton Abbey.  With all the hoopla, I wonder what I'm missing and will have to rent seasons of later.  I did that with the The X-files, and lost two weeks of my life.  I'd rather not do that again. (Although getting to know Mulder and Scully was completely worth it.)

All this, and it's only January.

How is your New Year going?