I always meant to start that here at No Sugar; Thankful Thursday to piggyback Foto Friday. It just never got off the ground (perfectionist tendencies!). But here's a start: I am thankful that ...
1. Ian has had 3 days of forward progress at therapy.
2. the staff is friendly and knowledgeable and no-nonsense.
3. the little victories, like keeping the drool in the mouth, using the facilities, making talking-like sounds, winking at me and giving the nurse the "sarcastic eyebrow".
I know I haven't posted much since my crabby post about the first night at rehab. This post will be random and not comprehensive, but it's 1045 and I need sleep.
Ian is seen by 4 therapists each day, some more than once: Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Speech Therapy and ... something else. (I told you this wouldn't be brilliant writing.) They start around 9 am and work the snot outta the boy; he gets a short break between sessions and then it's back at it. By 5 pm he finishes up and has at least once slept from 5pm till 9am; he's THAT tired.
Everything they do is geared toward "life on the outside" and strengthening. It's hard to tell which is neuro and which is plain atrophy from lying in bed for 2 weeks, but in any case, he makes progress every day. Thing One has him squeezing giant clothespins and doing 2-lb curls. Thing Two has him walking down the hallway, trying to find his mid-point balance. Thing Three helps with the trach and talking attachment and swallowing attempts and speaking attempts and breathing. Thing Four is terribly important as well; I just can't remember who that is :)
Tomorrow at 2 he will be having a feeding tube installed into his side. He is THRILLED (no sarcasm) about this. Finally, that blasted thing out of his nose.
He's learning how to walk. He's learning how to talk and swallow and make his limbs obey. (Give this a shot, would you? Swallow without closing your lips. Yeah. That's what he's been doing (or not doing) for a few weeks. Today, he swallowed an ice-chip's worth of water. *HAPPY DANCE*.