Day 24. Walking

Dad's first day in rehab was very colorful. He was awake bright and early and ready to work! They let him have his speaking valve most of the day which was so nice, especially since half of the things that come out of his mouth are absolutely hilarious. Conn and Whitney came to visit and they helped Dad talk on the phone to some family members. It was so fun to watch their reactions when they realized who was on the other line. His voice sounds different with his tracheostomy in place, more nasally somehow, yet his familiar drawl and pronunciations are the same and can't get enough of listening to him talk. I didn't realize how afraid I was that I would never hear his voice again. It's such an amazing feeling to let go of the gripping fear that has consumed me for so many weeks. Dad will live. He will recover.

In physical therapy they took him to the gym and assisted him in walking around the entire room. He did surprisingly well with their assistance and it became clear that physical therapy would not be our biggest hurdle, occupational therapy was next. They asked Dad to put together a puzzle and he struggled with the task. He has been complaining today that he has double vision and it seems to be interfering with his completion of fine motor tasks. I first noticed the problem yesterday when he struggled to touch the doctor's outstretched index finger. The doctor thought Dad might be suffering from a condition in which the mind takes an extended period of time to tell the body what to do.

Whatever Dad's limitations at this point, we continue to be so grateful as a family for the progress he has made. His memory is remarkable (today he offhandedly told Colby how many miles are on his work truck). As I said earlier, he still makes comments occasionally that make no sense. I saw his neurologist on my way into work today and I mentioned this to him. He assured me that this is totally normal and would hopefully fade with time. Because of his lucidity in most situations, I'm confident that this is right.

I was thinking earlier today how many times I have used the word grateful, miracles, prayer or hope when writing this blog. I think I would be embarassed by the exact count but this experience, although one of the most painful things I have ever gone through, (aside from the death of my Aunt Linda) has truly been an amazing experience of faith and growth for my family. I just went to check on my dad (it is no 11:30), he was laying in bed with his eyes open. I told him to stop worrying about everything, to close his eyes, sleep and focus on his healing. When I went to leave he held out his arms. I laid on his chest and realized that my Dad really is back. What an amazing gift.