January 26, 2017, Thursday

Chris was focused on leaving Friday. His attention in therapy was intense, he suddenly realized the value in soaking up every ounce of information and exercises. He was so proud of the work he was doing and how fast he was recovering.

He still had not had his echocardiogram that had been ordered on Saturday. His internist was very disapproving at this and expressed that he would be stating his disappointment. The echo was done later in the day and the results were pristine. Thankfully. The echocardiogram was to ensure he was not throwing clots from his heart. Good information to have before going home tomorrow.

It was another heavy day of therapies. Three hours of therapy a day doesn’t sound like much, but they break it down into 1/2 hour and hour increments so there is therapy and there is waiting-for-therapy. During the waiting-for-therapy slot he is usually napping, I am usually working on the computer or reading. During the therapy slot we are both trying to absorb all the knowledge we can before going home the next day.

Some of the therapists and the nursing staff were preparing us to go home already. Tips, hints and strategies as well as a list of ‘not to do’. No driving. No lifting. No being left unattended for long stretches of time. No showering alone.

I had mixed emotions about him coming home. While I was grateful he did not require extensive in-patient rehab, I was concerned that I would never sleep again worrying he’d have a stroke in the middle of the night…or any time I left the room, for that matter.

The first obstacle, well second, if you include the ‘having a stroke any time I left’ part, was our three dogs. Three very aggressively loving dogs that could easily throw off one’s balance. Dogs that don’t quite have etiquette down of letting others go first up or down the stairs. Dogs that don’t know their own strength quite frankly. Even that though wasn’t such a big deal, I simply would not bring them out until Chris was settled and then all would be well. After that we’d play it by ear and I’d be right there if anything happened.

He would have three more hours of therapy tomorrow before they allowed us to go home but then he would be coming home!

Still I had this feeling at the corner of my gut that wouldn’t quite let me relax about it all.

Chris wasn’t the best at listening to anyone pre-stroke and post-stroke this seemed to be emphasized. If I was going to manage my stuff plus pick up the slack on his stuff, then I was going to need a well calculated strategy. It would need to be choreographed like Swan Lake for both of us to come out whole.

He couldn’t just call an audible and do improv! (I love me some mixed metaphors!)

Seriously, though, this isn’t Chris’ strong suit on a good day…letting someone else make a plan. He has his own ideas in his own engineering mind and he really doesn’t entertain anyone else’s plans when he thinks he knows best and right now he doesn’t know that he doesn’t know best. Despite the many tasks he was charged with that his mind thought would be easy and his body thought differently, he still could not accept that there might be more things like that.

Taking Chris home was going to be a challenge.

 

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