The next sixty days…

The days ran together while he was in the MGH Acute Rehab Unit. Get up early, stop at the hospital to see him, get to work a little late, leave work at 4:00, go home to get the pup, go back to the hospital (where the pup was allowed to visit) until his bedtime. Every day the same. She learned how to shave his face, brush his teeth, feed him, change his bedding while he was in the bed, change his clothes, put very tight compression (anti-blood clot) hosiery on his legs…

She was very protective of him. So many people wanted to visit, but he still needed dark quiet for awhile. She made a schedule of times people could visit, and friends and co-workers signed up for 15 minute time slots three days a week. She would make sure he was decent, and there wasn’t breakfast all over his face. She knew if he could communicate it, he would want these things checked before people came to see him. She wanted to protect him as much as possible. Because she knew he would do the same for her, if the situations were reversed.

While she was at work, he was introduced to intense therapies – physical, occupational, and speech. The caring therapists worked to make him move his left side as much as possible to build his strength. The right side lay limp. The therapists started to move his right side along with his left to promote “mirroring,” with the hope that eventually his brain would reconnect nerves and reroute around the damaged parts to relearn with the help of his left side performing regular movements. The therapists tried e-stim therapies: electronic stimulation. The arm wasn’t extremely responsive, but his calf and foot did show some movement when the nerves were stimulated by electric pulses.

He tried shaving with his left hand using one of the hospital’s disposable razors. Not a good idea. She came  to see him that afternoon, and it looked like he’d been attacked by a bear! She brought him his own razor from home the next day.

Her mom and dad came every week for three days at a time to cook, clean, and do small projects around the house. They were a gift from God during this time of burning her candle at both ends.

After the first three weeks in ARU, the nurses moved him to a room where he could see people coming and going. By this time, he was noticing and paying attention to his surroundings much more. The room had a window to the south sky, courtyard, and parking garage, and even though it was frigid outside, he could enjoy the afternoon sun and watch it snow.

Good friends Jenn and Jer knew that she would need help with some house fixes before he could ever come home. They called Mt. Olive UMC’s Faith in Action group to help. The selfless group of volunteers installed a wheelchair ramp, widened the front door, and rearranged the downstairs bathroom to accommodate a wheelchair. While the inside remodel was taking place, she moved upstairs to their daughter’s former room and bathroom.

She arranged and rearranged the plants, cards, stuffed animals, pictures, and other gifts every day for sixty days. She told him about local events and news stories, but he had trouble with contributing to the conversation. This was hard, because they had always discussed current events, and shared ideas on how to solve the city’s, county’s, state’s, world’s problems. The hope that he would get back to normal…back to work…back to his doctorate…sooner rather than later slipped further and further away. On March 10, 2014, because insurance would no longer pay for acute rehab, he was moved to Colonial Oaks Rehab on the far south side of the city. And she still didn’t cry.

My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise. Psalm 51:17 (NIV)

The first week…

It snowed about 15 inches on Sunday into Monday, January 5 and 6 as the family sat in intensive care watching him struggle. There were so many cords and sensors all over him. He was uncomfortable and confused. The room had to be kept dark, as darkness the first several days would help healing. It was surprisingly noisy in ICU, but the nurses were compassionate.

She was in a fog. What would they do? He had to get better, and quick. They’d never lived on one paycheck before.  She put out the prayer request on Facebook: Please pray for a quick, complete recovery. God would answer that prayer positively, right? She didn’t cry. Except for a couple tears one morning before she went to the hospital that first week, she didn’t cry.

The physical therapist came to his room on Monday and he stood up…not well, but he stood. The doctor and therapist warned that his whole personality could change 180 degrees, as happens with severe brain injuries. Was he kind before? He might not be anymore.

They were thankful her folks lived in Ft. Wayne. The usual fifteen-minute trip to and from Lutheran Hospital took an hour in blizzard conditions. She was thankful once again that her kids and son-in-law Josh were with her.

By Tuesday, they were out of clean clothes, and they needed to go home to take care of some things. When they packed early Sunday morning, he had recovered from the first stroke, and they thought he would be at Lutheran only a couple days. Josh drove them to Marion on I69. This trip should have taken under an hour, but it was a sheet of rutted ice and snow. It took over two hours to get home. She took care of some things at work. The kids made contact with their employers and professors. Everyone was thoughtful, caring, and kind.

On Wednesday afternoon, they returned to the hospital. No change, they said. Maybe he’ll transfer out of ICU tomorrow. By this time he’d had more than a couple CAT scans and MRIs. They found a mass on his left thyroid, but the doctors at Lutheran wouldn’t touch it. Wait until he moves back to Marion, they said.

On Thursday he moved to a regular, non-ICU room. He tried to talk, but couldn’t form words. Ron and Jeff, longtime friends, braved the roads and visited from Sweetser and Ossian. They were visibly heartbroken by the big man in the hospital bed who was unable to talk to them.

Friday afternoon they told her it was time for him to move to Marion. Where should he go? She decided Marion General Hospital’s Acute Rehab Unit would be best: it was halfway between home and work. He arrived at the ARU around midnight on Friday. She realized the paperwork she would need to manage throughout the process would be massive. By the time he arrived, she was exhausted from the week and from answering a whole list of the same and some new questions. She kissed his bald head, tucked him in, and went home to collapse in her own bed. And she still didn’t cry.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28 (NIV)