Things are still going pretty well for the Popster. He spent another Sunday afternoon at home with Mom, Becky, and the grandkids...and I'm told it was a good day. Dad said that each time he leaves the hospital (and it's only been 3 or 4 times) it seems to get a little easier. I'm so thankful that it's taking so long to get him home for good because it's allowing him to gradually ease into reality...it really is a blessing. Too much reality too fast would be too stinkin' hard...for all of us. So he came home for another beautiful sunny Sunday and mom got to test out the new transfer lift she had ordered. It allows her to get Pops in and out of his chair all by herself. She said it worked well. He also got to test out his new bed and his 'go-go-gadget' mattress that automatically turns him every 30 minutes. It's very high-tech, very James Bondish, and very cool. What we won't do for our Pops.
I guess they even ventured out of the driveway and took a walk downtown with the grandkids. I asked how dad did with that, and mom said he did pretty well. He said it's hard to hear the sound that his wheelchair makes on the sidewalk because it reminds him of the sound his rollerblades made. As mom said, there's no looking back...all we can do is look forward.
It was a good day...no mishaps, no surprises. Mom has a twin bed pushed next to dad's and I guess they were resting (or trying to) as the grandkids jumped all over them....what a great picture. I know dad loved it. Little Mikey even feel asleep on Bapa and they took a nap together. How beautifully normal.
His coming home is probably still about two weeks away due to some possible surgeries in the future. There are some exciting things happening...nothing for sure, but the possibilities alone are exciting. First off, they will be doing some work on his trach hole to get it to close...it should have closed on it's own by now, but it hasn't and he still loses a lot of air when he speaks. So this week they should have it closed for good and maybe then a fourth swallow test right away. That would rock.
They are talking about another surgery soon to implant a dialysis catheter that would allow him to have dialysis at night while he sleeps. This would be so great as he hates dialysis...it's long, boring, and takes up a good chunk of his day. If he gets this surgery, he could do his dialysis at night three times a week and sleep through the whole thing. That would rock.
The most exciting possible surgery would be a nerve transplant in his left shoulder. The doctors want to go in and try to repair/transplant many of the nerves that were damaged in the accident. The best outcome of this would be movement in that shoulder. That would rock.
It sounds like all of these surgeries could be happening soon, and we pray that they do. Lots of possibilities for change in the next few weeks, and that's exciting. As a person that hates change, I'm actually learning to embrace it, even the kind that rips the floor out from under you. Because no matter what change brings, we serve a God that doesn't change; a God that in a world of pain, confusion, and chaos, remains solid as a rock. Change is good. Bring it on. With God, all things are possible.
And that rocks.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Flying Bologna
Pops has been pretty tired lately. His days continue to be busy with rehab, dialysis, and all his therapies. His left arm has been causing him a lot of pain lately, and though they can't say for sure that his nerves are growing back, we of course hope they are. The pain comes on quickly and is sharp and intense, which according to his therapist is a good sign. He is on meds for the nerve pain, but it's hard not to get a little excited when I see him wince. It seems sorta backwards to be happy that he's in pain, but it's exciting to think he may be gaining movement in that arm.
Because of the pain, the doctors wanted to explore the arm further so he had an MRI and also a nerve test done. Even after the tests they can't tell us that for sure that his arm will gain movement, but they also can't say that it won't. The nerves in his shoulder are definitely damaged due to the nature of the accident and not due to the spinal cord injury. So it's questionable if he will ever get shoulder movement in the left side. But the arm is a little more hopeful...there's more potential for nerve regeneration there. There may be a possibility in the future for surgery to try and repair the shoulder, but at this time all we can do is wait and see. The doctor that performed the nerve test (an acupuncture-like thing involving lots of needles) was surprised at what he saw. After looking at the x-rays and studying the damage done to his neck and shoulder he looked at dad and said, "Based on what I see, there's no reason you should be alive right now."
Funny how one little sentence can knock you into reality. He's alive. He shouldn't be. But he's alive. Not only alive, but alert, competent, and dare I say healthy? How blessed are we? Once in awhile, it's good to take the focus off the paralysis, dialysis, and nerve damage and realize that, for cryin' out loud, we've still got our dad. There may be no medical reason that he's still with us, but obviously God has a reason for him to be here. And, thankfully, God trumps medicine.
Mom continues to get ready for his arrival home in a few weeks. A hospital bed was delivered to the house and she ordered a special lift to assist with transfers. When I asked dad how he felt about coming home, he said he was 'neutral'. He's very used to the hospital routine, he knows what to expect, and he said he's quite comfortable there. If something goes wrong, you just push a button and a nurse appears in the door. If he needs anything at all...boom, there it is. Push a button at home and he'll be lucky if he gets a piece of bologna thrown at him. Relax...I'm kidding. Mom won't throw any food at him. She can't cook, silly.
We pray that the next few weeks are smooth for dad and that he has peace about the big move home. We thank God for bringing him this far; for giving him, and each of us, a reason to be alive.
Because of the pain, the doctors wanted to explore the arm further so he had an MRI and also a nerve test done. Even after the tests they can't tell us that for sure that his arm will gain movement, but they also can't say that it won't. The nerves in his shoulder are definitely damaged due to the nature of the accident and not due to the spinal cord injury. So it's questionable if he will ever get shoulder movement in the left side. But the arm is a little more hopeful...there's more potential for nerve regeneration there. There may be a possibility in the future for surgery to try and repair the shoulder, but at this time all we can do is wait and see. The doctor that performed the nerve test (an acupuncture-like thing involving lots of needles) was surprised at what he saw. After looking at the x-rays and studying the damage done to his neck and shoulder he looked at dad and said, "Based on what I see, there's no reason you should be alive right now."
Funny how one little sentence can knock you into reality. He's alive. He shouldn't be. But he's alive. Not only alive, but alert, competent, and dare I say healthy? How blessed are we? Once in awhile, it's good to take the focus off the paralysis, dialysis, and nerve damage and realize that, for cryin' out loud, we've still got our dad. There may be no medical reason that he's still with us, but obviously God has a reason for him to be here. And, thankfully, God trumps medicine.
Mom continues to get ready for his arrival home in a few weeks. A hospital bed was delivered to the house and she ordered a special lift to assist with transfers. When I asked dad how he felt about coming home, he said he was 'neutral'. He's very used to the hospital routine, he knows what to expect, and he said he's quite comfortable there. If something goes wrong, you just push a button and a nurse appears in the door. If he needs anything at all...boom, there it is. Push a button at home and he'll be lucky if he gets a piece of bologna thrown at him. Relax...I'm kidding. Mom won't throw any food at him. She can't cook, silly.
We pray that the next few weeks are smooth for dad and that he has peace about the big move home. We thank God for bringing him this far; for giving him, and each of us, a reason to be alive.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Aw, Nuts
I can't believe it, but dad did not pass the swallow test. Aye carumba. We are all disappointed. His speech therapist said his swallow is better than last time, but she's still not comfortable letting him eat yet. Because he literally did not use those muscles for four months, it takes time for them to gain strength. So we wait another 3-4 weeks and he'll try for a fourth time.
Sure, it's a big fat bummer, but you know what? There's too many good things going on for a failed swallow test to get us down (just read yesterday's post). Pops feels the same way. So what if he waits another month before he can eat or drink....maybe that's just more of God's perfect timing. With all the exciting commotion that the next few weeks promises, maybe tube feeding will just be easier for all of us. It's all good.
But now I'm starting to think dad really is avoiding mom's cooking. Hmmm....it's certainly possible....
Sure, it's a big fat bummer, but you know what? There's too many good things going on for a failed swallow test to get us down (just read yesterday's post). Pops feels the same way. So what if he waits another month before he can eat or drink....maybe that's just more of God's perfect timing. With all the exciting commotion that the next few weeks promises, maybe tube feeding will just be easier for all of us. It's all good.
But now I'm starting to think dad really is avoiding mom's cooking. Hmmm....it's certainly possible....
Sunday, April 22, 2007
What A Day
Wow. We had a pretty great day today. For the first time, dad was able to leave the hospital, and this time he went farther than the parking garage. (Mom got an awesome new accessible van and yesterday she and Pops went for a cruise. But they were feeling a little nervous about leaving the safety of the hospital, so they ended up driving from the first floor of the parking garage up to the fifth floor and back again. Not the most scenic drive, but we're all about baby steps here.)
But today was a different story! Fans and I met mom at the hospital to pick up dad, and I'll admit we were all feeling pretty anxious. Dad also had mixed feelings about the day. After almost five months in the hospital, it's a major deal to load up in a van, leave the nurses behind, and head out on the road. Basically, Pops has to trust us to care for him in case something were to go wrong, and that can be a little scary....for all of us. But we did it! And we're all feelin' good...
We got to show him the house Fans and I will be moving into soon, and then we headed to Mike and Becky's where he and mom will be living when he leaves the hospital permanently. We weren't quite sure how easy it would be for him to get around the house, but it turned out to be really quite accessible for him. Mike and Becky designed it well, and he was impressed with all of it, especially his huge bathroom that's been customized for his needs. We spent the rest of the afternoon outside playing with the grand kids, hanging out in the sunshine. It was beautifully normal. Well, there was one minor mishap, but we dealt with it. (And by "we" I am referring directly to the B-Team.) Yeah, that's right...we came, we saw, we boweled. It was empowering. It was fantastic. Well, I guess it's mostly mom who should be proud, but we were able to transfer dad with no problem, and it was a relief to know we could do it, and do it well!
The quote of the day came when Mike and Fans were moving a heavy sofa into the garage. As we watched them strain and grunt, dad said, "Hmm. Finally a moment where I'm actually happy to be a quad." See...there are benefits...
All in all, a great day. A chance for dad to live in reality, if only for an afternoon. A chance for all of us to see what our new life will be like. A much different life, but life nonetheless. We agreed that we'll probably be spending many future Sunday's much like this one. Hanging outside, watching the kids play, chillin' on lawn chairs. Sounds pretty normal, right? I love normal. Normal is nice.
We got Pops back to the hospital by 5:30 p.m. and he was pretty wiped out. He agreed it was a great day and went better than expected. I think we all realized that, as a family, we're going to be okay. There will be surprises and mistakes and challenges, but you know what, we're going to be okay. I am in awe of how God is working this out, how he is bringing us together in ways we may have never experienced otherwise. What a blessing. Thank you God for leading us through today.
And tomorrow could be just as huge. At 9:30 a.m. Pops will be taking the swallow test for the third time. We pray, pray, pray that he finally passes and it's bye-bye stomach tubes. This has been a challenge for him the last few months, so we are praying the third time really is a charm. We have no doubt that whatever the outcome, it's all going to be okay. Not because of our own strength or our own abilities, but simply because with God all things are possible. It's only because of Him that we are able to do anything, we are never beyond the reach of his grace.
We give Him all the glory.
But today was a different story! Fans and I met mom at the hospital to pick up dad, and I'll admit we were all feeling pretty anxious. Dad also had mixed feelings about the day. After almost five months in the hospital, it's a major deal to load up in a van, leave the nurses behind, and head out on the road. Basically, Pops has to trust us to care for him in case something were to go wrong, and that can be a little scary....for all of us. But we did it! And we're all feelin' good...
We got to show him the house Fans and I will be moving into soon, and then we headed to Mike and Becky's where he and mom will be living when he leaves the hospital permanently. We weren't quite sure how easy it would be for him to get around the house, but it turned out to be really quite accessible for him. Mike and Becky designed it well, and he was impressed with all of it, especially his huge bathroom that's been customized for his needs. We spent the rest of the afternoon outside playing with the grand kids, hanging out in the sunshine. It was beautifully normal. Well, there was one minor mishap, but we dealt with it. (And by "we" I am referring directly to the B-Team.) Yeah, that's right...we came, we saw, we boweled. It was empowering. It was fantastic. Well, I guess it's mostly mom who should be proud, but we were able to transfer dad with no problem, and it was a relief to know we could do it, and do it well!
The quote of the day came when Mike and Fans were moving a heavy sofa into the garage. As we watched them strain and grunt, dad said, "Hmm. Finally a moment where I'm actually happy to be a quad." See...there are benefits...
All in all, a great day. A chance for dad to live in reality, if only for an afternoon. A chance for all of us to see what our new life will be like. A much different life, but life nonetheless. We agreed that we'll probably be spending many future Sunday's much like this one. Hanging outside, watching the kids play, chillin' on lawn chairs. Sounds pretty normal, right? I love normal. Normal is nice.
We got Pops back to the hospital by 5:30 p.m. and he was pretty wiped out. He agreed it was a great day and went better than expected. I think we all realized that, as a family, we're going to be okay. There will be surprises and mistakes and challenges, but you know what, we're going to be okay. I am in awe of how God is working this out, how he is bringing us together in ways we may have never experienced otherwise. What a blessing. Thank you God for leading us through today.
And tomorrow could be just as huge. At 9:30 a.m. Pops will be taking the swallow test for the third time. We pray, pray, pray that he finally passes and it's bye-bye stomach tubes. This has been a challenge for him the last few months, so we are praying the third time really is a charm. We have no doubt that whatever the outcome, it's all going to be okay. Not because of our own strength or our own abilities, but simply because with God all things are possible. It's only because of Him that we are able to do anything, we are never beyond the reach of his grace.
We give Him all the glory.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
The B-Team
Dad continues to plug along...rehab, dialysis, therapy...he's a pretty busy guy. He could have his third swallow test at the end of this week, or else early next week. His speech therapist said his swallow is much stronger than even a few weeks ago. Woo hoo! Slowly but surely. His left arm continues to have some pain and tingling, and it's unsure how long that will last. We continue to pray that those nerves are growing back.
I got to hang out with dad tonight and we spent some time going through some blogs...he said it's great for his spirits to read not only the comments but the older posts as well. We read one from December where we were rejoicing because he had breathed on his own for 20 whole minutes...yikes, how far he's come! Thank God for the many, many baby steps (or in his case, wheel rotations) that dad has taken.
There's much to be learned in the next few weeks...I got to help with a transfer tonight and was even asked if I was going to be a part of his "bowel program". Dad and I just looked at each other and laughed. There's nothing funny about the reality of his condition and all it entails, but sometimes you just have to laugh. As I contemplated being bowel trained, Pops said, "Well, now you've got something to write about tonight...a private invitation to be on my bowel team!" Not an invitation I thought I would ever get, but, heh, I consider it an honor to just have been nominated...and I didn't even have a speech prepared...
Wow. So many new things to prepare for...many unexpected challenges ahead. Without faith in an all-knowing God and a good sense of humor, how could we do it? I'm thankful this is stretching our faith, cause no matter how strong your bowel team, without God we're pretty darn helpless.
I got to hang out with dad tonight and we spent some time going through some blogs...he said it's great for his spirits to read not only the comments but the older posts as well. We read one from December where we were rejoicing because he had breathed on his own for 20 whole minutes...yikes, how far he's come! Thank God for the many, many baby steps (or in his case, wheel rotations) that dad has taken.
There's much to be learned in the next few weeks...I got to help with a transfer tonight and was even asked if I was going to be a part of his "bowel program". Dad and I just looked at each other and laughed. There's nothing funny about the reality of his condition and all it entails, but sometimes you just have to laugh. As I contemplated being bowel trained, Pops said, "Well, now you've got something to write about tonight...a private invitation to be on my bowel team!" Not an invitation I thought I would ever get, but, heh, I consider it an honor to just have been nominated...and I didn't even have a speech prepared...
Wow. So many new things to prepare for...many unexpected challenges ahead. Without faith in an all-knowing God and a good sense of humor, how could we do it? I'm thankful this is stretching our faith, cause no matter how strong your bowel team, without God we're pretty darn helpless.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Cruisin' with Bapa
I haven't been able to see Pops since Wednesday, but mom says the past few days have been pretty good. He had a great visit with good buddy and fellow quad Jason Hall on Friday. Jason has always been a close family friend and now of course he and Pops are closer than ever. He is a great resource for our family and understands dad better than probably anyone. I see many shenanigans in their future....hopefully they can stay out of trouble.
Today dad had a good visit with Mike, Becky, and the grand kids. I guess Cole and Paige got to ride on Bapa's lap and cruise the halls. Even Mikey joined in the fun...I wish I could have seen all three of them on his lap...must have been pretty cute. Pops continues to enjoy his freedom and joined everybody for lunch in the cafeteria...more momentous than it sounds, of course. I know it must be tough for dad...he was always a hands-on grandpa, always with a kid in his arms. But I hope that he is learning to enjoy being a different kind of Bapa. He may not be able to hug and squeeze, but that doesn't mean they have to stop squeezin' him...
There is a specific prayer request we have...he has been feeling a lot of pain in his left arm, which is the arm that he has no movement in. He is able to pinch the fingers a little bit, but he can't lift the arm itself at all. But recently that left arm has been very sensitive...even when mom puts a blanket over it dad feels pain. This may or may not be a positive. It could be a sign that his nerves are growing back and he is regaining movement. Or it could mean nothing. No one can say for sure what it means, but we are praying it may be a sign that his left arm is waking up and there could be movement in the future. So if Pops comes to your mind, pray for his left arm!! Who knows what could happen?? Having left arm movement would be hugely beneficial for him...and at this point it seems to be good sign that he feels so much pain in it. We'll see...
He just finished his last round of antibiotics so we also pray that he remains healthy. It will be the true test to see if all the infections he's dealt with in the past are really gone. Let's pray they are.
Continued blessing, continued growth, continued prayers...God remains steadfast. To Him be the glory.
Today dad had a good visit with Mike, Becky, and the grand kids. I guess Cole and Paige got to ride on Bapa's lap and cruise the halls. Even Mikey joined in the fun...I wish I could have seen all three of them on his lap...must have been pretty cute. Pops continues to enjoy his freedom and joined everybody for lunch in the cafeteria...more momentous than it sounds, of course. I know it must be tough for dad...he was always a hands-on grandpa, always with a kid in his arms. But I hope that he is learning to enjoy being a different kind of Bapa. He may not be able to hug and squeeze, but that doesn't mean they have to stop squeezin' him...
There is a specific prayer request we have...he has been feeling a lot of pain in his left arm, which is the arm that he has no movement in. He is able to pinch the fingers a little bit, but he can't lift the arm itself at all. But recently that left arm has been very sensitive...even when mom puts a blanket over it dad feels pain. This may or may not be a positive. It could be a sign that his nerves are growing back and he is regaining movement. Or it could mean nothing. No one can say for sure what it means, but we are praying it may be a sign that his left arm is waking up and there could be movement in the future. So if Pops comes to your mind, pray for his left arm!! Who knows what could happen?? Having left arm movement would be hugely beneficial for him...and at this point it seems to be good sign that he feels so much pain in it. We'll see...
He just finished his last round of antibiotics so we also pray that he remains healthy. It will be the true test to see if all the infections he's dealt with in the past are really gone. Let's pray they are.
Continued blessing, continued growth, continued prayers...God remains steadfast. To Him be the glory.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Better Than Football
Continued forward progress on the Pops front....slow but steady. Therapy is going pretty well, and dad is taking advantage of finally feeling healthy after months of struggling with one issue or another. On the wall of his room was posted a story he had written himself...the letters are scribbly but certainly legible. I know he gets down about his abilities and how long it takes him to do things, but to see a paragraph he had written was very exciting. His story involved a fair maiden named Jean who lived in a castle with her grandchildren and a handsome prince...hmmmm...vaguely familiar...
It was great to see him trach-free, but since he loses some air through the hole he has to cover his throat with his hand to speak. But he sounds really good. His voice is a little weak, and he needs to take a breath after each sentence, but hopefully he will get stronger. Due to his accident and the damage to his diaphragm, he may never have the voice or breath strength that he used to, but to us he sounds great. His blood sugar has finally stabilized so he no longer needs insulin every day. For him that means no more finger pricks! Yahoo! The doctors still plan to send him home in 2 to 3 weeks, so mom is working on buying an accessible van to make the transition smoother. A sweet ride to go with his sweet chair...
The crazy snowstorm yesterday which began as a headache for me turned into a magical night with my Pops. As I headed to the hospital to stop in and see dad on my way home to Chicago, I spun out on I-94 and 360'd my way across three lanes of traffic without getting hit. A miracle in itself...but it spooked me so bad I told dad I wasn't leaving till the snow stopped. So my expected one hour stop turned into a long night hanging out with Pops...and what a blessing it turned out to be. For the first time ever, dad asked if I would show him the blog, so I followed him to the gym and we hopped on the computer. He has heard about the blog and how it works, but has never quite been ready to face reality and all that has happened to him in the past four months. He was pretty blown away...the pictures of him in the beginning, his very critical condition, all the people that have been reading about him and praying....he just couldn't believe it. He cried...a lot. I kept asking if it was too much, if we should go back to his room, but he said, "No, no, I want to read it." Even I had forgotten much of what he's been through, and it was good to go back and realize just how far he's come. Unbelievable. We only went through a few of the first posts and the most recent, but he really loved it. I think it's good for him, sort of helps the healing process, I suppose. Know that he greatly appreciates the prayers and comments...he was blown away to say the least.
The night only got better...he escorted me down to the cafeteria for dinner (well, I ate and he watched, but it was precious nonetheless) and it hit me harder than I thought it would. I looked around and wanted to yell, "Helllllo, people, yoo hoo!...do you see me over here?? I am eating dinner with my Pops!...do you have any idea how amazing this is?" But the general public seemed pretty oblivious to the fact that the cafeteria was offering much more than Swedish meatballs that night. It was offering a slice of 'normalcy' for us as, day by day, we seem to get a little piece of our Pops back. Yes, it's going to be very tough moving back into the real world, but I have never been more sure of God's perfect timing. His absolute, precise, never a second late timing. Mom is still readying the house for dad to move home, but it should be done in about 2-3 weeks. Perfect timing.
I had said goodbye and was leaving dad's room last night when he said, "Ames?"
I stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"
"Better than playing football, right?"
I smiled. "Yeah. Without a doubt, Pops, better than football."
God is smart. Way smart. What a privilege to be used by Him in this way. And how awesome to watch as before our eyes He is turning pain and suffering into something beautiful. God is good.
It was great to see him trach-free, but since he loses some air through the hole he has to cover his throat with his hand to speak. But he sounds really good. His voice is a little weak, and he needs to take a breath after each sentence, but hopefully he will get stronger. Due to his accident and the damage to his diaphragm, he may never have the voice or breath strength that he used to, but to us he sounds great. His blood sugar has finally stabilized so he no longer needs insulin every day. For him that means no more finger pricks! Yahoo! The doctors still plan to send him home in 2 to 3 weeks, so mom is working on buying an accessible van to make the transition smoother. A sweet ride to go with his sweet chair...
The crazy snowstorm yesterday which began as a headache for me turned into a magical night with my Pops. As I headed to the hospital to stop in and see dad on my way home to Chicago, I spun out on I-94 and 360'd my way across three lanes of traffic without getting hit. A miracle in itself...but it spooked me so bad I told dad I wasn't leaving till the snow stopped. So my expected one hour stop turned into a long night hanging out with Pops...and what a blessing it turned out to be. For the first time ever, dad asked if I would show him the blog, so I followed him to the gym and we hopped on the computer. He has heard about the blog and how it works, but has never quite been ready to face reality and all that has happened to him in the past four months. He was pretty blown away...the pictures of him in the beginning, his very critical condition, all the people that have been reading about him and praying....he just couldn't believe it. He cried...a lot. I kept asking if it was too much, if we should go back to his room, but he said, "No, no, I want to read it." Even I had forgotten much of what he's been through, and it was good to go back and realize just how far he's come. Unbelievable. We only went through a few of the first posts and the most recent, but he really loved it. I think it's good for him, sort of helps the healing process, I suppose. Know that he greatly appreciates the prayers and comments...he was blown away to say the least.
The night only got better...he escorted me down to the cafeteria for dinner (well, I ate and he watched, but it was precious nonetheless) and it hit me harder than I thought it would. I looked around and wanted to yell, "Helllllo, people, yoo hoo!...do you see me over here?? I am eating dinner with my Pops!...do you have any idea how amazing this is?" But the general public seemed pretty oblivious to the fact that the cafeteria was offering much more than Swedish meatballs that night. It was offering a slice of 'normalcy' for us as, day by day, we seem to get a little piece of our Pops back. Yes, it's going to be very tough moving back into the real world, but I have never been more sure of God's perfect timing. His absolute, precise, never a second late timing. Mom is still readying the house for dad to move home, but it should be done in about 2-3 weeks. Perfect timing.
I had said goodbye and was leaving dad's room last night when he said, "Ames?"
I stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"
"Better than playing football, right?"
I smiled. "Yeah. Without a doubt, Pops, better than football."
God is smart. Way smart. What a privilege to be used by Him in this way. And how awesome to watch as before our eyes He is turning pain and suffering into something beautiful. God is good.
Monday, April 9, 2007
For Sale: Trach, Gently Used
Yes, that's right. The trach is history. Dad got it removed this morning. Yahoo! How great is that? I vote we paint it gold and make it a Christmas ornament. (I just got a mental picture of our hypothetical service monkey climbing to the top of the Christmas tree to place the shiny gold trach at the top. Is that weird? Sounds pretty doable to me.) Anyway, I digress. So now he's left with a dime sized hole in his neck that should heal over pretty quickly. Pretty gross. It's an exciting day, as being trach-free can only be good for dad's health and should guarantee him a passed swallow test in a few weeks. Here's hoping.
He was able to take a cruise with mom and leave the fifth floor for the first time ever yesterday. They went on a tour of the hospital, and mom showed him all the places our family has gotten to know so well...the cafeteria (surprisingly delicious in relation to mom's home cooking), the ICU, even the third floor lounge where we spent many, many hours waiting during surgeries and what not. I guess visiting the ICU was pretty emotional for him, which is surprising since we figured he wouldn't even remember that part of his hospital stay. Mom said that as soon as he entered the big double doors, he just broke down. He even remembered Wayne, who was one of our favorite nurses that took care of him the first month or so. When mom asked how he remembered, dad said he has had dreams about Wayne. It's pretty bizarre what the mind remembers, even though dad doesn't recall any of his first month at the hospital. Anyhow, it was good for dad to see where it all began and take a ride around. And now, without a trach, he's attachment-free and can zoom, zoom, zoom where ever he wants. Woo!
God is good. He continues to bless us with good days and forward progression. It's easy to choose joy on days like these...and even easier to keep a smile on your face. I thank God for the mercy and grace He pours on us...amazing, undeserved, and never ending grace. There are daunting tasks ahead, mainly the whole moving home thing which makes us all pretty anxious, but God didn't bring us this far just to leave us hanging. And we've still got a few weeks left to prepare.
And hopefully just enough time to teach mom how to cook. Ah, who are we kidding? I wonder if the cafeteria delivers...
He was able to take a cruise with mom and leave the fifth floor for the first time ever yesterday. They went on a tour of the hospital, and mom showed him all the places our family has gotten to know so well...the cafeteria (surprisingly delicious in relation to mom's home cooking), the ICU, even the third floor lounge where we spent many, many hours waiting during surgeries and what not. I guess visiting the ICU was pretty emotional for him, which is surprising since we figured he wouldn't even remember that part of his hospital stay. Mom said that as soon as he entered the big double doors, he just broke down. He even remembered Wayne, who was one of our favorite nurses that took care of him the first month or so. When mom asked how he remembered, dad said he has had dreams about Wayne. It's pretty bizarre what the mind remembers, even though dad doesn't recall any of his first month at the hospital. Anyhow, it was good for dad to see where it all began and take a ride around. And now, without a trach, he's attachment-free and can zoom, zoom, zoom where ever he wants. Woo!
God is good. He continues to bless us with good days and forward progression. It's easy to choose joy on days like these...and even easier to keep a smile on your face. I thank God for the mercy and grace He pours on us...amazing, undeserved, and never ending grace. There are daunting tasks ahead, mainly the whole moving home thing which makes us all pretty anxious, but God didn't bring us this far just to leave us hanging. And we've still got a few weeks left to prepare.
And hopefully just enough time to teach mom how to cook. Ah, who are we kidding? I wonder if the cafeteria delivers...
Saturday, April 7, 2007
"Stop That Man!"
Dad continues to do well...he had a full week of therapy, dialysis, and visits from friends and family. He got to spend time yesterday with all the grandkids, and they were pretty impressed with his fancy new chair. I, too, finally got to see it in action, and to say it's fast is an understatement. He wouldn't show me its speed until we got to an empty hallway. After confirming that his chest strap was securely fastened, he quickly looked around and said, "Alright, I'm putting it in Drive 2." And like a bolt of lightning he was off. In the blink of an eye he was 20 feet away. What we didn't know was that a ways behind us was walking a group of therapists. They were unaware of our test drive and as soon as dad took off, they started to try to catch him, yelling, "Oh my gosh! Somebody stop that man!" They thought his chair had malfunctioned and was surely rocketing him to his death. He stopped on a dime and turned around laughing his head off. They quickly figured out that it was simply a fast guy in a super fast chair. Soon they were laughing as well. They wouldn't admit it, but I think they peed their pants just a wee bit. Oh, good times...
Pops is breathing well on his own and there's a rumor flying around that his trach will be removed completely sometime this week. It's pretty incredible to think that may really happen. There was a time when we all thought he would need a trach the rest of his life. What a blessing it would be to have that monkey off his back...or, in this case, his throat. And he has not needed suctioning in over a week. Praise God...unbelievable.
It will be four months tomorrow since the day of his accident. Sometimes the days blend one into the next, but others leave a significant impression in one way or another. The other night I was able to hang out with Pops for a few hours, just the two of us. It was one of those conversations I'll never forget. Not because it was profound or covered fascinating topics, but because it was just a daughter and a dad, hanging out. We talked about lots of stuff...him, me, mom, the accident, God, work, the future. No interruptions, no coughing, no suctioning, no lip reading. It was...great. He teared up when he talked about mom and how amazing she has been through all of this. He laughed when we talked about the latest antics of Cole and Paige. And sometimes he sat stunned, as he talked about how at times he's just hit hard with the realization that he is, indeed, a quadriplegic.
And as I told him that night, I always loved tossing the football with him, and rollerblading with him, and watching him do the "serpentine" (if you've seen it, you know what I mean). But I trade it all in a second for a chance to sit down, face to face, and have a good conversation with him. Hanging out with Pops was always fun...that was a given. But it's always so easy to fill the time with action...playing, doing, going. But now, what a gift we all are getting, just being able to really talk and get to know our Pops more than we did before. At least more than we ever made time for. Yes, it's still really hard, and of course dad would desperately love to walk again, but God is showing us many blessings along the way. We continue to trust Him and the plans he has in store for our Pops. We praise Him for the love He shows us every day...especially considering what today stands for.
Happy Easter.
Pops is breathing well on his own and there's a rumor flying around that his trach will be removed completely sometime this week. It's pretty incredible to think that may really happen. There was a time when we all thought he would need a trach the rest of his life. What a blessing it would be to have that monkey off his back...or, in this case, his throat. And he has not needed suctioning in over a week. Praise God...unbelievable.
It will be four months tomorrow since the day of his accident. Sometimes the days blend one into the next, but others leave a significant impression in one way or another. The other night I was able to hang out with Pops for a few hours, just the two of us. It was one of those conversations I'll never forget. Not because it was profound or covered fascinating topics, but because it was just a daughter and a dad, hanging out. We talked about lots of stuff...him, me, mom, the accident, God, work, the future. No interruptions, no coughing, no suctioning, no lip reading. It was...great. He teared up when he talked about mom and how amazing she has been through all of this. He laughed when we talked about the latest antics of Cole and Paige. And sometimes he sat stunned, as he talked about how at times he's just hit hard with the realization that he is, indeed, a quadriplegic.
And as I told him that night, I always loved tossing the football with him, and rollerblading with him, and watching him do the "serpentine" (if you've seen it, you know what I mean). But I trade it all in a second for a chance to sit down, face to face, and have a good conversation with him. Hanging out with Pops was always fun...that was a given. But it's always so easy to fill the time with action...playing, doing, going. But now, what a gift we all are getting, just being able to really talk and get to know our Pops more than we did before. At least more than we ever made time for. Yes, it's still really hard, and of course dad would desperately love to walk again, but God is showing us many blessings along the way. We continue to trust Him and the plans he has in store for our Pops. We praise Him for the love He shows us every day...especially considering what today stands for.
Happy Easter.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Eating Is Overrated
Just a quick update on the swallow test...it turns out they had time available this morning so they tested him earlier than they had planned. The bad news is he failed the swallow test. This is not the news we hoped for, but on the bright side, his speech therapist said he has improved greatly from the previous test done a few months ago. Apparently he was very close to passing, but there is still a small amount of fluid being aspirated into his lungs and they just can't take the chance. She has hopes that when she tests him again in three weeks his swallow will be even stronger and he may pass. So there is hope that three more weeks of capping off his trach will really strengthen his throat muscles and he will finally move on.
Mom said although he failed, he is in good spirits and said, "You know, eating is overrated anyway. It really wastes a lot of time." So we are hopeful the next test will bring better results. Thankfully, he is still breathing independent of the trach and is able to talk all the time. Because he is finally able to speak freely, he would probably enjoy a few visitors at the hospital. We don't want to overwhelm him, but feel free to stop by for a quick visit, usually shorter is sweeter in case he's wiped out. Weekends are the best time, as he has no therapy and the hospital is pretty quiet in general. Otherwise, late afternoons to evenings are good. Just be warned that he has dialysis Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday for three to four hours each time, and he can't have visitors in the dialysis center. On weekdays he is pretty busy with therapy until 2 or 3 in the afternoon, so he usually doesn't have time to chat. He will most likely be at Froedtert for another month or so, so anytime in the next few weeks should be fine.
Thanks for loving our Pops...and us too. We are really feeling God's love through your kindness to our family. I pray that you are being blessed as well. Onward and upward...
Mom said although he failed, he is in good spirits and said, "You know, eating is overrated anyway. It really wastes a lot of time." So we are hopeful the next test will bring better results. Thankfully, he is still breathing independent of the trach and is able to talk all the time. Because he is finally able to speak freely, he would probably enjoy a few visitors at the hospital. We don't want to overwhelm him, but feel free to stop by for a quick visit, usually shorter is sweeter in case he's wiped out. Weekends are the best time, as he has no therapy and the hospital is pretty quiet in general. Otherwise, late afternoons to evenings are good. Just be warned that he has dialysis Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday for three to four hours each time, and he can't have visitors in the dialysis center. On weekdays he is pretty busy with therapy until 2 or 3 in the afternoon, so he usually doesn't have time to chat. He will most likely be at Froedtert for another month or so, so anytime in the next few weeks should be fine.
Thanks for loving our Pops...and us too. We are really feeling God's love through your kindness to our family. I pray that you are being blessed as well. Onward and upward...
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Swallow Test Wednesday
Pops will be having his swallow test sometime Wednesday afternoon, so we pray that all goes well. He has had his trach capped for the majority of the last few days, even at night...so that is great progress. He's able to talk whenever he wants, and seems to be doing well in therapy. So high hopes tomorrow that there are good results on his test. Thanks for praying!
Sunday, April 1, 2007
I Am Not Schizophrenic
I'm really not. Nor do I have multiple personalities...but I do realize that my mood seems to change drastically from blog to blog. Though this may leave you feeling a bit of motion sickness, it's a very real representation of how we feel on any given day. Some days are just hard, and when dad isn't doing well, all of our attitudes seem to follow suit. But when he is happy and showing progress, our spirits tend to soar. It truly is a crazy roller coaster of emotion, and even after four months I can't seem to prepare myself for those hard days. Obviously, it's no fun watching someone you love go through suffering, and at times it's a sadness that I can't describe. But the joy we feel on the good days...it's awesome. All that to say, I am not schizophrenic and I do not have a mood disorder...at least that I am aware of. Ha.
The good news is....today's blog is a happy one. Dad has had a good couple of days, starting with the fact that he officially met his newest grandson, Mikey. Mike and Becky were finally allowed to bring in six-week old Mikey into the hospital to meet his Bapa for the very first time. Mike said it was amazing...I guess Mikey just stared into his Bapa's eyes for the longest time. Apparently Mikey never stares into anyones eyes, so it was pretty special. He even gave dad a couple of goofy smiles, which of course made dad cry. It was a very, very special introduction. Bittersweet a little bit, as Pops is known in some circles as the "baby whisperer" for his uncanny ability with infants. Though he couldn't hold Mikey as I am sure he wanted to, I know it was a very sweet time for him and dad couldn't stop smiling. Very cool.
Dad also got another real shower...the second in four months so you can imagine how great that feels for him. Fresh as a flower, in just a half an hour.
Today was pretty big....it was the first day they have ever capped off his trach completely. We have been hearing about the notorious "red cap" for some time, which basically covers up his trach hole so he is forced to breathe through his nose and mouth. In the past he was never quite ready for it because of his secretions or lack of muscle control with swallowing, but today he was able to tolerate it for quite some time. This is great news. We hope that it means his swallow is improving, but the real test will be the "swallow test" which should be happening this week. We are all feeling pretty anxious about it because it will be a major factor in determining his future, medically speaking. If he passes, he's on to eating, drinking, talking, and eventually the removal of his trach all together. If he fails, he could be looking at a lifetime of stomach feedings, limited speech, and all the drama that goes along with the trach in general. So there is a lot at stake. We will be praying our hearts out that he passes his test, and we ask anyone willing to do the same. If I find out a specific time, I'll be sure to get it posted. Please, Lord, let him pass that swallow test!
As far as the service monkey, it's really pretty fascinating. Just as a seeing eye dog assists a blind person, a service monkey works as the 'hands' of a quadriplegic. They're amazing! His monkey would be trained to help with dad's specific needs, opening cabinets, retrieving items, turning the pages of his book...anything that requires dexterity, which dad just doesn't have. How awesome would that be? And who doesn't dream of having a pet monkey? Unless, of course, you're Michael Jackson and you get what ever you want. So hopefully a service monkey will be in dad's future...there's a lot that needs to happen before we can begin the process, so who knows. It sure would be sweet. When we told dad about it last week, he frowned and said, "But I already have a service monkey!" Then he nodded his head in mom's direction. He laughed so hard a loogie flew out of his trach.
At church today, they talked about how God tests us. Not to see us fail, not to watch us squirm, but to see where He falls in order of importance in our lives. Sometimes he takes things away from us, our health, our wealth, our most prized possession, or sometimes people we love, in order to shake our priorities in order. I immediately thought of Pops, and what he's had taken from him....his health, his abilities, his freedom, at times his dignity. And I wonder what I would do in his situation. Do I love God more than my legs? Do I love God more than my freedom? More than my ability to walk, run, move, hug, speak? Could I give up the things that bring me the most pleasure if God asked them of me? Tough questions. It's no fun to be tested, but I know that the sorrow and pain of the test will not be wasted. God wants to be first in our lives. My prayer is that we strive to put him there every day.
To Him be the glory.
The good news is....today's blog is a happy one. Dad has had a good couple of days, starting with the fact that he officially met his newest grandson, Mikey. Mike and Becky were finally allowed to bring in six-week old Mikey into the hospital to meet his Bapa for the very first time. Mike said it was amazing...I guess Mikey just stared into his Bapa's eyes for the longest time. Apparently Mikey never stares into anyones eyes, so it was pretty special. He even gave dad a couple of goofy smiles, which of course made dad cry. It was a very, very special introduction. Bittersweet a little bit, as Pops is known in some circles as the "baby whisperer" for his uncanny ability with infants. Though he couldn't hold Mikey as I am sure he wanted to, I know it was a very sweet time for him and dad couldn't stop smiling. Very cool.
Dad also got another real shower...the second in four months so you can imagine how great that feels for him. Fresh as a flower, in just a half an hour.
Today was pretty big....it was the first day they have ever capped off his trach completely. We have been hearing about the notorious "red cap" for some time, which basically covers up his trach hole so he is forced to breathe through his nose and mouth. In the past he was never quite ready for it because of his secretions or lack of muscle control with swallowing, but today he was able to tolerate it for quite some time. This is great news. We hope that it means his swallow is improving, but the real test will be the "swallow test" which should be happening this week. We are all feeling pretty anxious about it because it will be a major factor in determining his future, medically speaking. If he passes, he's on to eating, drinking, talking, and eventually the removal of his trach all together. If he fails, he could be looking at a lifetime of stomach feedings, limited speech, and all the drama that goes along with the trach in general. So there is a lot at stake. We will be praying our hearts out that he passes his test, and we ask anyone willing to do the same. If I find out a specific time, I'll be sure to get it posted. Please, Lord, let him pass that swallow test!
As far as the service monkey, it's really pretty fascinating. Just as a seeing eye dog assists a blind person, a service monkey works as the 'hands' of a quadriplegic. They're amazing! His monkey would be trained to help with dad's specific needs, opening cabinets, retrieving items, turning the pages of his book...anything that requires dexterity, which dad just doesn't have. How awesome would that be? And who doesn't dream of having a pet monkey? Unless, of course, you're Michael Jackson and you get what ever you want. So hopefully a service monkey will be in dad's future...there's a lot that needs to happen before we can begin the process, so who knows. It sure would be sweet. When we told dad about it last week, he frowned and said, "But I already have a service monkey!" Then he nodded his head in mom's direction. He laughed so hard a loogie flew out of his trach.
At church today, they talked about how God tests us. Not to see us fail, not to watch us squirm, but to see where He falls in order of importance in our lives. Sometimes he takes things away from us, our health, our wealth, our most prized possession, or sometimes people we love, in order to shake our priorities in order. I immediately thought of Pops, and what he's had taken from him....his health, his abilities, his freedom, at times his dignity. And I wonder what I would do in his situation. Do I love God more than my legs? Do I love God more than my freedom? More than my ability to walk, run, move, hug, speak? Could I give up the things that bring me the most pleasure if God asked them of me? Tough questions. It's no fun to be tested, but I know that the sorrow and pain of the test will not be wasted. God wants to be first in our lives. My prayer is that we strive to put him there every day.
To Him be the glory.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
