It's 6 am, Monday morning, and as I write this post, Ian is at the local coffee shop, in a Bible study with several of his church/town guys. God is good!
I apologize again for being remiss in writing. If I thought the days of back-and-forth hospital trips were busy, they had nothing on our transition home -- especially those first few days.
It's difficult to be a nursemaid. It's mentally challenging to give your 33-year-old husband a shower. But we persevered. After a few days we settled into a routine and things have gotten busier and easier all around.
Our first outing after homecoming was Opening Day at the baseball field.
|that's Audrey, the giant, waving her glove ...|
|Mrs. Happy and Mr. Grumpypants, who refused to participate in the day.|
Between introducing all the teams and throwing out the first pitch, military veterans were honored. We wheeled out onto the field and Ian was able to stand for the National Anthem.
The day left him quite exhausted. He came home and slept. But it was a good day in the fresh air.
The next few days contained initial visits from the home health nurse, physical therapist, occupational therapist, and speech therapist, as well as friends and family. I scurried about preparing his various medications and meals he could manage to consume. I injected his meds and water by his stomach feeding tube with a syringe, since swallowing was still a bit of an issue.
Headaches and lethargy abounded. His eyes still jiggle and swirl, making reading impossible and television a not-so-passive activity. But slowly, we have made some progress:
- He is able to tolerate more "awake time."
- That horrid, hospital cough is gone. The only coughing we do follows a misplaced mouthful of food.
- Showers require a trip up our giant, old staircase ... we've navigated it quite well several times.
- Thin liquids, while still a potential hazard, are not impossible.
- He is eating like a champ; yesterday we met my folks at Cricksters for (just Ian) coleslaw, chili, a pulled pork sandwich (without the bun), fries and a milkshake. (I had a salad). ---->
- I think we're done with the feeding tube, so that can come out soon, meaning ZERO wires. Whew.
- The headaches have lessened in intensity and frequency -- If you saw the dance his eyes do constantly, you'd wonder why he doesn't have a CONSTANT headache!
- While we still have a hospital bed in the parlor, I would call it nearly unnecessary at this point; he sleeps horizontally, and is able to rise from a prone position. The benefit of having it is that when he is completely exhausted from therapy, he has a closer locale to recoup than our bed at the top of the aforementioned stairs.
The miscellany: We have a therapist here nearly every day. Ian gets stronger with every session. His word-finding abilities have, to my ears, completely returned. His right hand still doesn't cooperate, so typing, driving, etc ... are not in the very near future. That's not to say they aren't out there -- just not as close as, say, sleeping in our bed and eating a steak (not at the same time! gah!).
He sounds funny; his tongue is wonky and his voice is different ... sometimes his lips don't form the words crisply. He doesn't stumble when he walks, but he still needs assistance (no matter what he tells you!). He is able, however, to brush his teeth, use the facilities, take his pills, pull himself along the floor in his wheelchair with his feet.
Ok, so Monday isn't the weekend, when I promised to have an update written. And I feel like this post is not adequately describing his situation and progress. So bear with me, ask questions, and I will try to flesh out the Maize Family Picture as best I can.
Until the next entry - God bless you all for your time, money, efforts, prayers, concern, loyalty. It means the world to us (Ian's just beginning to learn of the kindnesses done for us these past few months, and he's overwhelmed). I am simultaneously humbled by and proud of the generosity of our supporters.