Pace It

 The breathing treatments are necessary and helpful, but tough. So, again, during the treatment, when he loses control to the pumped rythym of the breathing machine, and it's flexible, ribbed hose that connects to the trach, I talk about pacing that last mile. Relaxing when your body wants to tie up. He just ran the Cowtown Half-marathon on February 26th. He's been a runner, a champion sprinter, among other sports, since high school. A little later in life, he pushed himself to do more distance as a way to deal with stress and have some me-time. Genius time, he calls it. He didn't even start half-marathons until he was 62. I had a heck of a time finding my old pom-poms to cheer him on.

This race, he needs to pace, too. He is getting lots of rest. Sometimes he goes to that deep, deep healing place. Other times, I swear he is playing possum. 

Physical Therapy still involves sitting up on the edge of the bed, and trying to sit with as little assistance as possible. 

Jim moved from Trauma Care to Surgical last evening. Different building even. Different everything. They will be putting in a G-tube. ..Gastric tube... so he can get proper nutrition and meds, and they will remove that annoying nasal feed tube he dislikes so much. They are working to get his platelets to an acceptable level and keeping an eye on the hemoglobin. All to be sure he handles that surgery well. If he were able to swallow better, it wouldn't be necessary. I'm hopeful the switch that controls swallowing miraculously repairs itself. Then the G-tube is a non-issue.

I know him. He is tough. Tougher than most think. He makes challenges a part of his lifestyle. He doesn't have fun doing the races, which I found fascinating. He does them because he can. To challenge himself.  Well, he's got a challenge here, for sure. And, he is up to it. He will get in to the rhythm of it. Pace it for the long run.

And, then surprise them all.