Chuck loves an early Clint Eastwood movie "The good, the bad, and the ugly"… well with all the blessings poured out on us, I can’t think of anything ugly. Today was, like Chuck’s injury, interesting. I made a special carry-in meal for Chuck today and as he ate, I asked about rehab. He answered: "The rehab girl walked me all over the place and she doesn’t make me use a wheelchair. We walked out side all around the gazebo." He went on and on about this walk outside, and I thought "He’s hallucinating. About what he wants, or what I do with him. He wants to go out, but they won’t let him." (The nurses on his ward make him stay in a wheelchair "for his own protection.") A few minutes after lunch, Chuck was wheeled away by rehab; I called Karen, and out of the corner of my eye, there goes Chuck with a PT girl, strolling all around the gazebo, walking a maze, waving to say "Hi" to people, doing leg stretches and all kinds of upper body coordination tricks the PT people do. "Oh I feel so guilty for doubting him!!!" He’s all up in arms because the nurses make him stay in a wheelchair and call when he needs to toilet. Protect him like wrapping him in cotton, and even gave him a full time assistant to protect him. I swear! Her name is Veronica; she’s at his beck and call. He will be so spoiled. We meet with the staff tomorrow and with the managing doctor who is making him stay in a wheelchair (anyone here heard of liability?) to protect him…. Chuck will say, "Let me have a walker! PT lets me walk!!!" My dog is in a fight. My first instinct is to fight for him, to say, "stop waking him up 4 times a night, let him sleep…. let him walk!" But my first reality is "rehab him." Friend Karen will try to come to the meeting and I’ll bow to hers and the doctor’s wills.
My own adventure for the morning was cooking a chicken dish for Chuck, packing 3 bags (Chuck’s clean laundry, my big bag, 2 sweaters, and the food) into the car and getting to the corner and having the tire light flash and ding. "Oh you sissy," I said to car, "it’s not winter yet." Car hates cold weather. But I’m not foolish either so I turned around to head back home and give the problem to Chuck. Realized he isn’t home, and turned around into Dick’s driveway…. Some of you have already heard my plaintive, "I need your help" and responded with much love. Dick walked around the car and we spotted a screw stuck in the tire. I then handed Dick my car key and asked to borrow their car and had all my stuff moved to their car when I said, "Wait! I have the van!" My brain only works on one thing at a time lately as you can probably tell from this rambling narrative. What used to be my competent brain is reduced to one cylinder and that one works slowly. Diane and I drove her car to my house and unloaded all the stuff into the van and off I went to give Chuck the special lunch. He then also ate from the tray they give him at the hospital. If Chuck lost any weight being on IVs and a stomach tube… he’s eating like a truck driver now.
So what’s the good, the bad, and the wonderful?
The good? Chuck’s progress; he’s alive… I thought he would die in post op, my prayer as I walked the surgery halls was his name. "Chuck… fight… Chuck fight." Today he took a 10 minute cat nap after lunch and then PT came – like clockwork. He woke up and moved off the bed, albeit grudgingly… and went off to rehab.
The bad? The screws that get into our tires (and our life?) when we least expect or need them. Not being able to sleep at night… I am finally sleeping well at night. Chuck has to deal with nurses taking his blood pressure at 2am and then getting back to sleep…
The wonderful? Friends that I can wake up at 5am and who will drive me to the hospital and stay with me there bringing me milk to drink, friends I can hand my keys to, friends who are praying for Chuck and me. Chuck is lookin’ good! Our God is an awesome God. Love Susie