Watch out for that first step...

Seriously. So, she doesn't really want me to advertise it, but this time we're going to start off with Mom. I get home early (for the last few days anyway) and throw myself into bed. I can't wait to get over 5 hours of sleep, and the phone rings at 10:15 pm. Alright, the only time the phone has rung after 10 in the last few weeks, it was a very bad call.

It's my sister, and she proceeds to let me know that Dad is fine, don't worry about Dad. It's Mom. On the way out of the hospital, she tripped over a speed bump and slammed into the pavement before she realized what had happened. Unfortunately, she slammed her head into the pavement. Fortunately, she's very hard headed.

5 stitches, bruised face, 2 hours and 1 catscan later she headed home. Her first night back in the house since Dad's traumatic injury and she's carrying one of her own. Personally, it seems like a pretty smart strategy to me. Injure yourself significantly enough (but not too much) so that you are sufficiently distracted and can get some sleep.

...


Dad was good at lunch. Really good. Not jump out of the bed and give me a vigorous handshake or proceed to espouse on the importance of being nice to my daughters speech (I get that one a lot). But he was very responsive. His nurse suggested that she could actually remove one of his restraints during our visit, if we promised not to let him remove his feeding tube again. We (my sister and I) looked at Dad and he did that 'thing' with his chin that you do when you can't shrug. I'm not sure how to explain it, but it looks a little like an exaggerated frown. Go try it in the mirror, and you'll see what I mean. Anyway, it was visible, and it was a clear indication that he was listening. Sort of a "let's give it a try, maybe I will, maybe I won't."

Have I mentioned that his only good arm is restrained? Actually, both are restrained although I fail to see the point of restraining his immobile arm. Go through the list.

1) Why am I in the hospital?
2) Why can't I move my right side?
3) Why do I have this annoying tube in my nose and down my throat?
4) Why can't I talk?
5) Why am I tied down?

I would imagine there are endless questions all contingent on his ability to fully comprehend where he is and why he's there. Even if he's one day able to explain his feelings, I don't know that he'll remember these days like the rest of us will. Trying to imagine what he's experiencing, I think of it like one big long nightmare interspersed with random visits from loved ones.

Once free, his first action was to rub his lips, scratch his nose and clear some sort of gunky stuff from the roof of his mouth. If you were expecting something more significant, think about it for a minute. You've been lying immobile in bed for days, without a drink of water, and a tube up your nose. You can't reach your face, or ask anyone to help.

I should have suggested this to the Bush administration as some sort of legal torture. If they can do it in a hospital, how could it be illegal in a detention camp?

...

End of the day, and one last visit. He seems pretty confused to be honest. He was pretty fascinated with his left hand. I'm sure he's trying to accomplish something, or in some way is trying to understand what's going on. I'm sure there's a lot of pathways either not connecting or connnecting to the wrong things.

We're going to visit a rehab clinic tomorrow. Only a couple options for us, one is in the hospital he's in, the other is half an hour away. I'm fortunate that he's 5 minutes from my home, and 10 from my job for now. We'll see what tomorrow brings.