In addition to work and visiting my Dad, I’ve been going to painting class every week. I missed a family lunch at the home where Dad is recuperating because it conflicted with class. No one can do everything.
My cousin Kevin was in town. Kevin lives in the middle east but comes back stateside several times a year to raise money for the non-profit he works for. He’s one of their bigwigs and he’s very, very good at his job. It’s always great to see him when he blows through town; he has fantastic stories of life on the raggedy edges of disaster, so I was sorry to miss him but I heard everyone had a great time.
Dad still can’t eat due to the swelling in his throat; his epiglottis can’t function properly so if he takes anything in orally, he’ll aspirate it which would be disastrous. He’s getting all his nourishment through a feeding tube, which they basically plug into him every night. So naturally we threw a party where everyone ate in front of him.
He loved it!
Josie and Jay were there, representing our branch of the family and told me that it was fun, the food was good and Dad had a good time.
I had been with Dad the day before the picnic, shortly after his physical therapy session. He told me the therapist put him on the parallel bars and he collapsed.
“I couldn’t stand!” he said, surprised. “I didn’t know I can’t stand. I didn’t know I can’t walk!”
“Not yet.” I said. “You’ve got to give yourself time to heal.”
We talked about the things he’d be able to do again when he recovered. He said he probably shouldn’t drive anymore and I agreed. I told him he’d been driving like a maniac for years! He laughed.
I think he’s been in a low level of shock since he fell. We told him what his injuries are but he didn’t believe he actually can’t walk until he tried to stand. At least he doesn’t try to get out of bed anymore.
He’s healing fast, though, for a guy less than a decade shy of a century old. Last week, my sister said that when he got back home, we’d get him a laptop so he could…she mimicked typing.
“But I can’t do that” he said, and like magic, his fingers twitched!
“You’re doing it, Dad!” she told him. He looked down at his formerly useless hands, now typing on an imaginary keyboard.
“not very fast.” He grouched. She sent us all a video of him moving his fingers. It was a good day!
Yesterday, he was able to stand for three minutes between the parallel bars!
He’s working very hard on his physical therapy. He’s absolutely determined to recover from the trauma he’s endured.
I say we sell his car before he gets home again and changes his mind about driving anymore!
I brought in some of my recent work to show him.
Mother's Day happened while all this was going on. I had a fantastic Mother's Day but that's for another post. Now I have to go eat the dinner my sweetie just made for me.