Change....

Change is the only thing we can count on these days.  As much as I hate change, and like to establish routines, and know what to expect in certain situations, I don't really want things to stay the same either.  Especially in regards to my dad.  If there was no change then that would mean there would be no improvement. Today he helped the nurse with his medication through his stomach tube.  I know that picture isn't great but it sure was good to see him helping to take care of himself.  My dads morning started early with a swallow test where he had to swallow a barium paste and then they watched via x ray different things they had him chew up and swallow to see what muscles were affected by the stroke and if he could handle eating some solid foods. It has been almost two weeks since he had anything to eat.  The results of his test revealed that he has some weakened areas but that exercises and time should strengthen those areas....AND....he was cleared to eat....it has to be mechanically altered which basically means softened foods, but not pureed and also nectar consistency drinks with meals and ice chips between meals.  For brunch he had a turkey and Swiss cheese omelet, an orange cranberry smoothie and some coffee.  When food showed up, I wish I could have gotten a picture of his face, he perked up a bit. When I came back after getting Ivan, he was out.  His body was having to work to digest food, which it hasn't had to do for a while.  Hopefully the more he eats, the less he will need the stomach tube feedings and once his calories can be maintained by him eating, then he won't need the stomach tube at all!  I worked a little more with him moving his toes, and got some movement in the upper part of his foot, similar to pushing a gas pedal.  I know he will walk again.  I got a little sad when I left to go pick up Seth.  It seems as time passes, a few things remain the same- nothing is ever the same when I go to visit my dad and he has a long road ahead of him. There are a lot of little things he did like waving to me when he would see me outside from the house or calling to check on me. Every time I walk out the front door I turn to look down at the house, always force of habit, always waiting for him to wave. I keep thinking that I will wake up one day and everything will go back to normal. I know that is not realistic.  He has a lot to relearn, but I know he can, we have already started.  We were also working on puzzles this morning.  It was interesting today as the neurosurgeon team came in and also when the speech pathologist came in, they said I was doing a good job and had a lot of great ideas of things that I have been doing with my dad.  The one doctor actually asked me if I was thinking about pursuing a career in occupational or physical therapy. That surprised me. I don't know. That seems awfully difficult.  The things I do with my dad are kinda just random things, but I do enjoy helping people and it was encouraging to hear these highly trained, very educated professional people telling me that I was good at something.  Not to say that other people who tell me this don't matter.  These people don't really know me - or know my compassionate heart - but they still felt I was really good at what I was doing for him. They don't really know me but they saw something good in me. I just wonder if I could be like that with anybody, or is this drive to help him just from the fact that he is my dad?  

He has had many amazing nurses, but this one he seems to like a lot!  His name is Glynn, I love how he treats my dad, I love how he talks to my dad.  

I love my dad so much!