Pancakes

We passed the swallow test! I say that as if I sat next to him and swallowed a giant swig of barium myself. Not so, but we are all so deeply invested in his recovery and progress that 'we' seems fitting. He is now allowed to be on a soft diet which means... Pancakes! As soon as I heard I ran across town to my favorite pancake place. Unfortunately, they would not let him have blueberries but all in good time. It was so amazing to watch him sit up and put something in his mouth. I cannot imagine not eating anything for over a month. Although they have been consistently feeding him an adequate diet via his PEG tube, he has been so unsatisfied and hungry! Hopefully we can start working on putting some meat back on his skinny back, arms and legs.

Therapy went well today. Physical therapy has been a little monotonous as they just walk around the gym with him three times a day. We all know this is a very important and necessary skill, but we are starting to feel there are some aspects of his physical recovery that are not being addressed. Don't you worry though, Colby took control of that and insisted they work with Dad on his balance for one of his sessions. He is getting much stronger. We feel comfortable walking with him to the bathroom now but will be thrilled when he no longer has to drag a giant IV pump behind him.

Dad works so hard in the mornings at therapy sessions and is always exhausted in the afternoons. Hudson loves to take advantage of this situation and cuddles up for afternoon cartoons. My Dad is genuinely the best Grandpa I know and it's been a longstanding joke that my child loves Dad more than he loves me. I am so beyond grateful that my Dad survived this horrible experience not only for his wife and children, but for his adoring grand babies. There is just no way to adequately describe our relief that we have him here with us. We need this man.

Independent breathing!

That's right! No more tracheostomy! This morning after rehab the respiratory team came and removed that horrible tube from Dad's neck. He has been eagerly anticipating this day for a week and it is so nice to see him nearly entirely tube free (he still has a peripheral IV for his Heparin drip and a PEG tube for his feedings). He says that his breathing feels fine without it and we are all so unbelievably grateful for this progress. I was thinking today back to the beginning of this nightmare when I was so thrilled to come to his room in Idaho Falls to see him assisting the ventilator on the occasional breath. I can't believe how far we have come. As I have said on here before, they told us early on that breathing is a brain stem function (the location of Dad's bleed) and that he may never accomplish this feat again on his own.

Therapy was very busy this morning. Colby encouraged him through four straight sessions with no breaks. This schedule exhausts him and he indulged in a long afternoon nap. When he woke up we went out to the patio to spend some time as a family. Here Dad made several comments about needing to return to work, his frustrations with his current abilities and even said he was worried he would 'be stupid forever'. I honestly cannot convey how deeply it hurts to hear him say these things. We have watched him make such amazing progress that it is easy to forget how exacerbating this process is for him. I was glad Colby was here because he was able to encourage him and ensure him that everything is fine back home.

Tomorrow he will have a swallow study to see where we are on his ability to eat. We are praying so much that his swallow is strong and that they can advance his diet as I know it is such a priority for him to eat food! Above all else and no matter the results, he continues to work so hard and we are unbelievably proud of him.

Two days in pictures

The blog is becoming slightly monotonous lately and I'm sure my Dad would say the same about his last few days.

He is walking well with support but is very wobbly so he needs at least one person to hang on to him. He is able to transfer from his bed to the wheelchair with very little support but luckily realized he is not invincible after his first solo attempt at walking. He keeps telling us that his nurse was 'very mad' about the whole incident. Which I'm sure she was, as I am well aware of what kind of paperwork goes into an incident like that.

Occupational therapy is going okay but he is still constantly complaining about his double vision. In a creative attempt to solve the problem, the therapists equipped him with a fancy pair of glasses in which one side is wrapped in press 'n seal. This supposedly blocks the vision out of one eye and allows him to see with only one. He claims it is helping, so we will go with it.

Today he shaved, sent an e-mail, made a grocery list and walked... A lot. He is hating this process as much as ever and constantly reminds us that he needs to get back to work. Which is hilarious considering his current physical state.

He is down getting an X-ray of his lungs right now to check the status of his pneumonia and is still doing well breathing without supplemental oxygen in his Trach. They are still hoping to take it out within the next few days. They are allowing him five ice chips an hour (a privilege he constantly abuses). He does get to eat pudding and applesauce occasionally with supervision of the therapists but that's just not cutting it for him. He still wants a blueberry waffle! Random.

He is less confused but does still occasionally come up with something totally off the wall. All in all it is so amazing to have Dad back in this capacity. Although grumpy, he is overall affectionate and understanding of the process. We are so grateful for his small progresses and constantly remind each other that this will be a long, slow process. Please continue to remember him in your prayers as this is a very humbling and difficult situation for a strong 50 year old farmer.

Let there be light

Happy Easter! Today we spent the day as a family gathered around my Dad and enjoying a cafeteria honey ham and prime rib. While I can't say the hospital is where we most wanted to spend our time, I can genuinely say we were happy to be there and be together.

I wish I could adequately describe my Dad's personality right now. Let me first say that I legitimately respect my Dad more than anyone in the world. His opinions and input have always been extremely important to me. So at the risk of sounding belittling: he is very child like. We need to explain things multiple times, correct simple errors and analyze small concepts. We go over the same things multiple times and still cannot seem to satisfy his need for answers. He is forgetful and unamused, yet he seems to be accepting of what has happened to him and can retell the story of his stroke in detail. He recalls the pain and how scared he was that he would not survive when the realization of his reality set in. Then everything went black.

He has been in his dark, sedated and confused place for one month, but he is starting to see the light. Dad's waking has been a beautiful and celebratory miracle for us, yet it has been filled with lots of sadness for him. He spends lots of time deep in thought and has taken to an old habit we watched for countless hours by my Great Grandma Vida. When she lived with us, we would lose her for periods of time. She would block out conversation, her eyes would fill with sadness and she would rub her fingers over her eyebrow. Ironically, my Mom silently pointed to my Dad today and I watched him do this all too familiar action. I know this is sad for him. He has been robbed of his independence and dignity. His self respect is threatened and he is feeling the horrible 'what ifs' for his future.

Today, while we were at dinner he convinced himself he could get to the cafeteria to be with us and fell in the process. I feel so saddened by this, not only because it was physically painful for him, but because I can only imagine the words he was saying to himself when he failed.

Rehab is difficult. It is a process full of hope and recovery, but the road to independence is long and rocky. Dad saw the sun today for the first time in four weeks. I know he was thinking about his farm and his life while sitting in his wheelchair and I hope he knows that that life is not over. It's not gone. It's just a lot of hard work away.

Oscar

Wow. Dad is grumpy today. No matter how grouchy he gets, he is still hilarious. He cannot stop talking about food and today he informed us the first thing he wanted was a blueberry waffle. That's quite possibly the most random thing I have ever heard. I don't know that I have ever seen him eat one in my life.

He went to therapy for four hours today yet he cannot remember one minute of it. He keeps telling everyone he slept through the whole thing which I know is a lie because I came to check on him a few times while I was at work and he was away all morning. His breathing sounds terrible today. His lungs are clearly full of junk so we keep telling him to cough. Despite our badgering, he keeps complaining about the breathing of the person in the next room. He is so annoyed about everything: his feeding tube, his Trach, toileting, us visiting, us leaving... It's so funny because it's so unlike him.

They are still running the anticoagulants for his blood clots but they have not scanned them since we left the ICU so we really have no idea what's going on with them. The team does not seem super worried about them so we are choosing not to worry about them. A very amazing thing happened today though, Dad got his knees back! His legs became so swollen while he was sedated they were nearly as wide as my waist. He had absolutely no sign of a knee cap whatsoever. That being said, his ankles are still looking like he is twenty months pregnant.

It looks like he will have a fairly slow Sunday with only one therapy session. Lets hope he remembers it! Happy Easter (or Valentines- that's what my Dad said earlier today)!

Two weeks awake

I am sharing a photo I never thought I would share because i did not want anyone to ever see my Dad in such a vulnerable position. When this picture was taken, my Dad had suffered an extremely lethal hemorrhagic stroke only hours before. He was in very critical condition and was given a 50% chance of survival. His brain stem and ventricles were enlarged and soaked in irritating blood. The neurologist said to us on this morning, "I have seen really bad bleeds before, and this one is very serious. It is highly likely that he will never wake up." I can never describe to anyone what this day was like and I can only pray that I never experience fear and despair of this magnitude again. My Dad does not look like this anymore. His eyes are bright. His strength is returning and his determination to return home is immense.

Today in therapy he dressed himself (fairly well I am told) and then splashed on his infamous Drakaar Noir. He worked hard walking and making his way up and down stairs. He is no longer receiving ventilation or oxygen through his Trach and the doctors are considering removing it on Monday. This is a huge step in the road to recovery and I cannot wait to see him without any tubes in his face or neck. He is having major problems with his vision and says that he Is constantly seeing double. He closes one eye in order to do simple tasks. This is worrying all of us as we would like him to be able to return to his regular activities at some point (most of which require impeccable eyesight) but the therapists are fairly confident this problem will resolve over time. Sleeping is also a problem. He is having nightmares and has a lot of trouble discerning between truth and fiction. In the evenings he frequently becomes anxious and agitated and needs constant reminding that all is well.

Today was better than yesterday and yesterday was better than the day before. In the rehab unit he is given a schedule in the morning which usually contains five therapy sessions: 2 physical therapies, 2 occupational therapies and one speech therapy for the day. They are all difficult but he continues to struggle most with the fine motor tasks in OT. Speech is working with him on swallowing so that he can eventually return to his diet of roast beef and mashed potatoes, something he begs for every day.

We are looking forward to celebrating Easter as a family this weekend and while we will take part in Egg hunts, baskets and candy comas, we will celebrate our savior and his resurrection. We will be grateful for the immense blessings we have and are receiving on a daily basis but mostly we will be overwhelmingly thankful that the man in this picture is now a terrible memory of the past. We will celebrate it with Dad.

A whole new Dad

This is Cortney tonight. Che' is busy delivering babies, and asked me to fill in. I did not get here until four this afternoon, so I missed most of the day, but I will do my best.
When I left last Thursday I left a Dad who still most of the time did not seem to know who I was, was confused, and seemed very sad. The Dad I saw today was a whole new man. My kids and I came bounding into his room, he said "hi grandkids", and then reached his arm out to each of them calling them by name. It was such a sweet little reunion, as all four of his grandkids sat around his room   fighting for the chance to sit in the chair next to Grandpa.

I was not here for his therapy today, but it sounds pretty intense. Dad's day started at 9:00 am when they started his first therapy session. He has five sessions throughout the day that last 45 minutes each. Today he said that he walked, practiced on stairs, and I heard he even beat Colby at a game of tic tac toe. It sounds like Colby did an excellent job today, and pushed Dad pretty hard. Dad also had an exciting first today, he was able to suck on ice chips and eat some applesauce. I have never seen my dad eat applesauce in my life, but you would have thought he had a steak. He was super excited. I am sure after a month of no food anything is gourmet. I am not sure what the plan is for introducing new foods, but this small start is exciting.

Dad is still a little confused at times, is struggling with his short term memory, and the double vision continues to bother him. He also gets a little anxious at night and is having a hard time sleeping. It will be nice when he can get home to his own bed, and his own routine. Today, he was telling me he has to get home because it is going to be time to drill soon. He is a true farmer, and a little stroke can not keep him from worrying about his crops. I feel as if Dad is improving a little bit everyday. I was in awe this evening as I watched my Dad get up, and with assistance walk himself to the restroom. I can not believe that the man I saw in his bed today is the same man I kissed goodbye a week ago. He amazes me, he is a fighter, he has a positive attitude, and he will overcome this.