Glimpses

 Before we moved from rehab to skilled nursing, I talked with Jim a few times over the week, keeping him informed. To whatever level of understanding he had from moment to moment, I wanted him to know that there was a move coming. I did not want him to see me packing things, bagging greeting cards, taking the photo posters down... toting bags and making walls bare without an explanation that was calm and unconcerning. I certainly did not want him to have the thought that I was leaving. It needed to be the... we are leaving. That there are processes we have to go through, but he was safe. That this was all for him to continue to heal, and give him the best opportunities to do that including the why and the where of what was happening. He's a really smart man, and he gets it when I talk insurance limits...the system. And on the move day, wrapped up and waiting in the chair while I tried to keep things as normal as possible, he commented that we needed to be sure to do certain "things before we leave here". Awareness.

Each time there has been a change, location of any kind, he has what I call a pause. He's also a very sensitive man, and whatever state of consciousness he was in at the time, he knew there was a change....and, he hid for a while in whatever way he could. Under the sheet. Head down and no eye contact. Sometimes non-responsive. This last location move was a little smoother at first. He offered more communication and seemed more at ease.

He also connected with PT and OT the very day we arrived, so he was greeted and encouraged. And, in the brief evaluation, his body was exercised right off the bat.

He continues to do well in PT and OT, but it's so little. And, the days are long. I fix in between snacks to help him gain weight and build muscle back, play music he wants and talk with him about the picture boards. He actually notices the photos often now. He'll look, and then mention the name or ask where was that? He also sees things like numbers series that aren't really there. I try to pay attention to that in case it has a real meaning to him. Like his phone number that he spouted out during a meal a while ago. No one paid attention to that because of his tendency to talk about things that they couldn't apply to anything logical. But it was. Logical. And real.

Yesterday for the first time, he read L..i..z..z..i..e! That's our newly adopted senior boxer mixed dog we brought home in March. I wrote her name under her picture, but he actually read it. Said her name out loud, with some enthusiasm. And, he remembered her. Even for a moment, that's progress. I showed him the latest short video I took showing Lizzie turning the new stuffed chicken toy into white meat and dark meat. I got a Jim smirk in return.

These are the glimpses that sustain me. That encourage my patience. My faith. Word by word. Thought by thought. They are there one day, and may be distant the next. But you take the glimpses...the fractions of time... and store them and share them... and mostly be grateful for them. These are the results of Jim's hard work and God's healing.

We are sewing glimpses together to weave all his details into one glorious long life memory quilt. One square at a time... soon to be all arranged... and beautiful.

Transition

 The transition from rehab to a skilled nursing facility has been difficult. There is a level of attention that is expected in rehab and helps the patient progress. Simple things like communication, addressing him and having conversations, dressing him, digital monitoring, regular timely rounds to just look in on him. Helping him to do everyday hygiene and encourage him to start asking for what he needs and wants. Very prompt attention if he needs it. He is basically coming out of a dark, dark hole and having to rewire and relearn some things. Most everything. If you think about that... even for a few minutes... relearning almost everything. How many years of, "I already know how to do that", to "What?"

Rehab also scheduled three hours of therapy per weekday. Not always a smooth and productive session, especially with the rotation of personnel and starting from square ones over and over. And, not always productive because Mister Sleepy didn't wanna. You need a consistent schedule with expectations to build the foundation. After all, you can't start building from the third floor.

Skilled nursing is very different, and if you don't know the right questions to ask, it is a tough way to find out. Most of us really take so many things for granted in daily life that it is hard to form questions around lack. Luckily, we know a lot of the questions to ask, but not all. We really don't know how to gauge how they are answering. Truth or Dare. It's also about perspective and perception. Tomato....to-mah-toe...potato...po-tah-toe. Different takes on a similar or same subject.

Under stressful situations, how about we just add a lot more stress and open ended questions to the mix to make it really interesting. That's really what each medical phase is. You ask what you know to ask, hope they tell you the real answer and not what they think you want to hear, and be flexible enough to fix what was misunderstood or glossed over. Flight lessons really. Let's just cut the engines and ride the currents for a while, Then when you learn, you're not going to crash... and there's really no need to panic... you can turn the engines back on and shift the control. Till the next times the engines are cut.

Jim...is..still .. progressing... in spite of any and all of it. He has gained at least 16 pounds in two weeks. He is walking, but only in therapy, with a walker while lightly assisted from the therapy room. About fifty feet. Amazing! He is taking, not given his medication and reaching for drinks off the table. Putting them back and be a little bit tricky. I wore a nice glass of iced tea yesterday, and the table wasn't big enough for the protein shake, so it got dropped to the floor. Paloosha!! Chocolate rain. Not a big deal. His perspective is off because of the detached lens, so it is fully understandable. Add to that, he hasn't lost any of his stealthy speed.

Do I expect a lot? Yes I do. I set the bar high, as I have been told, but I'm also flexible. I learned that a long time ago. But, flexible does not mean you keep bending until you alter your standard and accept less when more is attainable. You may decide to do that after considering your position that could afford some lessoning.  I like to know what I'm dealing with, so I can make logical and educated decisions. If we disagree, fine.  That can and should be done without bodily damage. When it comes to Jim and his care, I find it difficult to expect anything but the best. From anyone and everyone. He is vulnerable. He depends on everyone asserting on his behalf. When he comes out of this, and wants to express things any differently for himself, that is a transition I am definitely looking forward to.

Treasures

Jim started this blog because of all the little, or bigger treasures he would find on his daily runs. It really didn't matter where the start point was, or where the run was going to end. The point was to do it. That's where he excels and others may not.

Regardless of where we were traveling at the time, he runs. It didn't matter if we stopped at a rest stop or a major campground, he was scanning and plotting the best direction to take off. Wind in his face out, behind his back coming in if there were hills involved. I had to learn to be patient and trusting...right 🙄...when he took off to heaven knew where.  I would have my coffee, or maybe more sleep and sometimes sit outside in this new backyard taking it all in.

We were driving in Utah several years ago. Jim was pushing the drive time on the road to more than I was comfortable, but we finally stopped after we missed a turn to a major direction change. It was blacker than black with almost no opposing traffic. I finally saw a small glowing sign that intimated there was a viewing area ahead. Ghost Rock. I didn't know if it was just a little jet out or a real rest area, but enough is enough! We were pulling over. It was a welcome, large, paved and striped area to stop and legally stay overnight, so we set up and packed it in... not knowing where we were really. It was just too pitch black to see.

In the morning, later than usual, Jim had stretched, downed his running drink and made up the electrolytes to pack on his belt. Off he goes to who knows where. Me? I'm lucky to know how to breathe on my own in the morning. Coffee in hand, I stepped out. Out to a wondrous sight. Red, and more reds and oranges and sand hues. Sage and scrub oak hiding the rest of the view behind a mesquite post and wire fence line. There was color and texture and deafening silence. I walked to the fence line to see beyond the low scrubs. The edge dropped to almost nowhere and stretched out for miles and miles... And miles. Canyons and plateaus and mesas in every direction. An eagle flew up out of the canyon floor and overhead, drafting and sighting. The blues of the sky were even bluer against the massive amount of reds. There weren't any,  but I could swear I heard drums. It was peaceful and reverent... and as sacred and holy as any cathedral.

I still hold that experience as fresh and valuable as that day. From pitch black to an array of beauty in the morning that will forever speak to me. You may be looking at black. But, when it clears there could be a treasure of color and exquisite beauty waiting. Some will need to have it pointed out. Some will be unimpressed with yet another red rock. But some will see it, and be forever changed.

Jim started this journey in black. But the color was always there. And, it's getting brighter every day.

Numbers

What do 306, 506, 508, 112, and 308 have in common?

These are Jim's hospital room numbers over the last 10 weeks. There will be more coming, no doubt. The chances of a well meaning card sent and received in a timely manner through that maze...zilch. Several were attempted but were returned or lost; however, the good intentions made it through just fine. Thank you.

But, so he can get your card along with that intent, you can still send your encouragement, your note, your best wishes, your funny comments and your prayers to the address below. I will make sure Jim receives everyone of them.

He is starting to be able to read them personally. Printing mostly. Script still stumps him. But that's ok. I know people without traumatic brain injury who can't read script!

So here you go...send your wishes to...

Jim Williams 

6501 Davis Blvd.

P. O. Box 821771

N. Richland Hills, TX 76182

Round 3

Round 1: JPS Hospital,  Level one trauma hospital.  ICU for 18 days. Trauma unit, 8 days. Surgical Unit, 10 days.

Round 2: move to Encompass rehabilitation hospital, May 20- June 23rd. ( longer stay than expected)

Round 3: We moved to a skilled nursing facility today. The length of stay again will be determined again by the insurance and Jim's progress. I'm betting on Jim's progress. Also, there will likely be some other procedures to fix his right eye, and perhaps the right orbital facial fracture that will be coming up and require hospital stay again. So, how long he will be in this facility is questionable. I'm still expecting Jim to surprise. In all areas.

There are a lot of suggestions as to how much we should be encouraging the doctors, who should be pressuring the insurance companies for extended stays, etc.. If only it could be that easy. There are so many influential factors that cannot be put out in type here. But, one of the most interesting is one that I have brought up before. The doctors have teams. If the weekly team input is not one that has a report of consistent progress, the line of progress goes flat. If that progress line goes flat, for whatever reason insurance will not approve any further accommodations. The doctors spend seconds... minutes... at best with the patient. A wink and a nod. Maybe a handshake. Therapists spend up to an hour each session. If therapists rotate teams, then it is square one after square one after square one. Looking at it from the outside, my business instincts say it could certainly be organized a lot better. But, no one has real control over that arrangement. It is a matter of staffing, economics, scheduling and patient cooperation as a bottom line. Covid influenced a lot of these issues we have today. All but the patient cooperation. That one you pray over. When you add communication skills and patient cooperation to the mix of those floating opinions... We are fortunate we had the length of time we did. He may be able to come back later, but you gotta leave when they say leave.

Bottom line. You'd better be prepared to attend, observe, initiate, advocate, and sacrifice. And, be good at poker. And, if you're good...get better. You never know who is going to be at your table.

So... Round three. New therapists. New surroundings. New staff. New noises, tastes and smells. New relations on my end, too. But... Jim is progressing. Maybe not the way the previous teams have calibrated.. But, I know what I see. What I hear. What was. What is. Jim is consistently improving, and we will have a great time going back into a couple of these facilities to say howdy. I wonder if they will recognize him... walking in... Standing tall.

(Improvement note for the day: When taking things down in the room to move, the only thing left on the wall was my Napoleon Hill quote. I could see Jim squinting to look at it. So I took it down and handed it to him. And, outloud, he read the entire page perfectly:

"The starting point of all achievement is desire. Keep this constantly in mind. Weak desire brings weak results, just as a small fire makes a small amount of heat." Napoleon Hill)

Jim-isms

 Over the weeks, Jim has progressed in so many ways, and he has made me cry, and made me wonder, and made me grateful. And, very proud. He's also made me laugh. That's one of his true talents in life. Making someone laugh, or be entertained. " I would never laugh at you...I laugh with you"... Although I must say sometimes, I would have understood if he did laugh at me. So, courtesy of Jim... Be grateful... Be entertained.

Ga-ding. Ga-ding.

Come on leg.( Pulling on his pants legs to help raise his foot off the floor.)

Yahoo. I-O-W-AH

No charge for your responses.

A tennis racket is a swatter backer.

What the h#@* is that? (grabbing something he shouldn't)

Y-u-u-um.

Nashville. ( When he started reading off the tv)

Why does that say Tim instead of Jim? (Referring to the nursing board of notes on the wall. The loop of the J had rubbed off leaving a T.)( Pretty observant I would say.)

Dave is a hose head. ( We were looking at photos on the picture boards I made and were noting the one with Jim and his siblings when they were younger. Brotherly love.)

Whoa.

What can I do to make this place a palace for you?

It's good to be seen!

Do you feel unfulfilled? ( was worried about me)

This pie...is like PIE!!! World's best!! ( hands in the air!!)

If you are here with me, I am just fine.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. ( Exasperated.)

Leaning forward, looking straight in my eyes, "You have missed out a lot on the Jim Williams app".

Honey...you bet I have.

Who?

 Have you ever thought what it would be like to look in a picture of yourself and not know it was you? The face that has stared back at you year after year. Your hair... Dark and full... Changing to salt and pepper... To a dignified white. A few facial lines. Maybe a lot of them. But, still you know yourself.

But what if you didn't?

Imagine not knowing yourself. So...how can you recognize other people? Even friends you've known for years. Even family. This is the situation as part of the severity of the injury, and part of the healing. Those things are coming back, but as they do, the not knowing can also bring a great level of stress and discomfort to him. To expose him to that much stress really is out of place at this time. 

Jim is finally recognizing himself in pictures. Nine weeks plus, and he recognizes himself. Mostly. The main goal here is for him to be well, keep healing and progressing, and to get back to being the Jim we all love.

So without a doubt, I have definitely tried to manage visits and exposures that would cause him any kind of discomfort. Sometimes it's just too much stimulus. That goes with the TBI. He is indeed very fortunate to have so many people who care about him, including very long time friends. Friends may feel that the time in the hospital is a very long time, and should warrant a visit. On the time scale for TB I, this is extremely early. So please be patient, know that we are trying to manage everything for Jim's well being for the long term. Your concern and wanting to visit and see him are greatly appreciated. It just may not be the correct time, and I hope that you understand the necessity at this time.

He is making such marvelous progress that we expect that visitors will start to be able to filter in a little bit of time to help encourage him to keep going forward, chat about old times, and help with his recovery.

In the meantime, I ask for your trust.

Weight

 Jim always works at staying fit. Anyone who knows him personally, knows this. His running. His health regiment of supplements and vitamins ( Specific brand, of course😁). His breakfast shake of protein and sugar stabilizers. Cottage cheese out of the container can be lunch. He's maintained his weight at 180, give or take two pounds ever since college. He wears the same size pants, and takes pride in that... although we have had discussions about just because they fit, doesn't mean they should be worn.🙄 Save those outdated and retro beauties for the musical theater, thank you very much.

So, as a result of the incident and traumatic brain injury that resulted, my tall and fit man is now my tall and very thin man. Almost 60 pounds down. Certainly not something he can afford, and dangerously low. So the g tube again provides protein at night to give him more intake over longer periods of time. That helps to supplement three daily meals. I have asked, but have not gotten the updated daily weight. Tomorrow, I'll ask again, but I can usually look and get an idea. I think he's gained a few, maybe five. 

He requires a lot of assistance with meals. Getting food on a fork is tough with the right eye injury and detached lens. Perspective is difficult, so rather than lose a lot of food off the plate or the fork, it's best to assist. Calories. Nutrition. Build back muscle. That's the goal. And, a meal can take an hour easily to an hour and a half for Jim to eat. 

Jim is not, never has been, food motivated. He enjoys a good meal, but he doesn't plan a day around eating. "What's for dinner, honey?" is not something I usually hear. And, if he is focused on something, he often forgets to eat, until he hears his own stomach grumbling about it.

In the situation he is now, eating is a big deal. And days are planned around food intake along with the therapies. I'm now permitted to make his favorite protein shakes to add to the Ensure that they want him to take. I bring cottage cheese, watermelon, mandarin oranges and snack bars for between meals along with his sports drink, full of electrolytes. He sucks that down. That helps hydrate the muscles, and I can see evidence of firmer fuller muscles in his legs and arms and a little more firmness in his face.

The strength he needs to build back those muscles... To sit straight... Stand... Walk a few steps... Stay balanced... Drains him very quickly. So there are lots of naps to take. Involuntarily. The body is so beautifully made, so smart, so in rhythm that it knows it needs rest. And, so it shuts down. Resets and rests for how ever long it needs. Then, it winds back up. With half open lids, slurred speech, and mixed up words, he sorts through the demands his body is making and revs back up to another round of energy expressed.

And, each time he winds down, and then winds backup. I'm always anxious to see what comes back with him. He has amazed me with phrases, and numbers, observations, and humor, too. So a pound at a time, he's coming back. It takes more than this to defeat Superman.

Kindness

 Every day, most of us go about our business... running errands, going to work or at least booting up the computer and backdrop for for a proper video conference, balancing the checkbook, washing salad greens for dinner...never thinking you won't do the same thing tomorrow...and the day after. Normal things that life requires. That's on the straight road. The life road that doesn't have the bumps and pot holes.

The roads that are more challenging can even become tenuous switchbacks or actual turning points. Sometimes welcome adventures. Others you wish for mundane.

April fifteenth was our turning point. It was a major, unexpected, unwanted life jolt that sent our sense of normal way off track. The tracks weren't even in view anymore.

But on this new path, there also have been many kindnesses. Unexpected. Unsolicited. Kindness given for kindness sake. The efforts of handwritten cards and messages. Petitioning prayer warriors. Lunches and snack bags. Parking attendance that gave me my money back with a "have a nice day". A car service that fixed my wacky windshield wiper as soon as I pulled in... No charge. The storage facility manager who kept my old rate when they found out Jim had been hurt. Hearing a sincere... How are you? What can I do? The list goes on. I don't take these gifts of kindness for granted. Just the opposite. They touch my heart and lighten the weight we carry right now, and they won't be forgotten.

If you watch the news and listen to talking heads whose intent is to outrage, you might forget that kindness exists... And even think good people are extinct. Truly. Good people are not extinct. One of them is injured and in rehab, but he is still good and still kind. And, many of them have extended hands towards us. Thank each and every one of you... many of whom we do not know personally...for your kindness.

Signs

 Jim and I both have a tendency to believe in signs. To be aware of small things that seem to be there for a purpose. Coins. Cardinals. I have a thing for bird feathers, and often I find the larger ones staring at me when I open a car door, or walk out of a building. Beautiful and perfect, it could be laying there... obvious... a Forrest Gump moment just for me. Like an answer to a question that was looming. I found several over three weeks of ICU trips back and forth, in my path. Fresh. Ladybugs and butterflies find Jim, no matter where. It could be because he smells good, but I think it's more about the energy he has. They will often flit around, collar to pocket to shoulder...take off and land on him again and again.

If you are open to seeing. You see. If you are open to hearing. You hear. If you are open to learning. You learn.

Driving down a nearby street regularly, I pass two small churches within a block of each other. The kind that probably struggle to meet budget every month. They both have letter signs in the front lawn. Old ones. Black frames with white-ish backgrounds that you change the big plastic letters to form messages. And, each time I have passed, the signs have had more than welcome messages. They felt personal. Fresh. Perfect. " Stand strong on your faith...", "Find answers...focus on God." Obviously these could fit any circumstance, because they are truth. But, I'd rather think they were there to strengthen my purpose for the day, so I had more resolve. More to offer Jim. More for other people, too.

So, to the little churches, in the little places with 50 year old plastic letters, even if one of us reads your posted scripture...and feels a little better...a little stronger...a little less unsure...your signs matter. And, maybe ladybugs and butterflies will want to follow us around to get a little of that.

We

 Holidays came and went, like all the years. They come faster and go faster now, too. Winter. Valentine's day and all the romantic flowers, candy and dinner. It may happen every year, but none of it... all his efforts to make it special... is ever taken for granted. Dinners together and sofa snuggles. Easter Sunday, a picnic and photos with our new adopted senior boxer dog, now more precious than ever. Our anniversary. Every year, we go back to the same little Italian restaurant where the "we" started. Where we talked for hours over dinner... Closed the restaurant... Then sat in the car and talked more. That night didn't end there. He sent an email that told me he had a great time, that our time together was easy and comfortable, and he hoped I felt the same way. Well, I must have, because here I am.

Just days after we celebrated our 14th... Our life blew up. All the little things, big things, have to do things, fun things... Plans for the year... All blew up. Two vehicles came together at an intersection and produced their own big bang that changed our life forever.

We don't even exactly know how our lives will fully change. Each day is its own story, none of which we were prepared for. Still aren't.

It's two months now.

It can be difficult to see past the point of impact into our old life. It's been all hospital protocols, insurance, monitors, tubes, McDonald's coffee and control. Other times the thoughts and memories of the celebrations or just being together before the shift are weighted with the word "last" attached.

Every day there are new challenges on many levels. Some couldn't possibly have been on the radar. People surprise you in marvelous ways and in ways that leave you with your head tilted in your jaw limp. Some challenges require you to rethink your perspective, if it is a hill worth dying on... or how to consider someone else's hill. Other challenges come from standing, not moving from your spot. The depth of emotions and physical toll is difficult to tell.

But... It's two months. Two months closer than it was before to our newest chapter, and towards his amazing recovery. Everyday Jim shows me in so many ways he is gearing up to come back, and that keeps me looking forward. We...are going to be fine. Sometimes, I tell him that to help motivate him and feel better, and other times it's for me.

Scribble

 A while ago, I noticed Jim was either writing in mid air or holding an imaginary pencil and writing on the blanket... After he straightened and flattened it to suit. After all, he is a writer. He carries tiny notebooks in his pants pocket to keep running notes, notes to self, reminders, and thoughts to pursue later. It's what he has done forever. He writes. So, I pulled out my flip notepad and a pen and handed it to him. Back then, it was especially tiny writing...compacted upward and downward swings. A bumpy line at best. But, he was really good at writing numbers. No shock there. He thinks in numbers. They make sense to him. The numbers were easily identifiable and larger. They were also equations of a sort. Minus signs, equal signs, pluses.

Then numbers with dollar signs in later writings. We were visiting with very close friends and discussing hockey and baseball scores. Some of those numbers in the conversation showed up on the paper he had in front of him. He heard it. He wrote it.

Then more script. A beautiful handwriting is not a talent Jim has... his hand rather acts like a compass, covering all four hemispheres in north, south, east and west directions. Sometimes all within one word. So translating early Jim script is tricky.

More numbers. More equations.

Today he started writing while sitting at the table in the lobby area. So the big artist tablet came out. He chose a pen over a colored marker. 

J...i...m...W...W...W...Will...(noise interruption)

No prompting. No, what is your name question. Just him, a tablet and a pen. So when I see his writing, I say something like oh, you're writing your name are you? Yes. What is your name? He wrote it. Then spoke it out loud looking at me. James. (Middle name). Williams.

You are indeed. And, I am so very proud of you.

Extension

We've known for a few days, but with the original release date looming, i felt compelled to make a formal announcement! 

This is huge. Jim has been making such great progress that his stay at Rehab has been extended an additional week! We now have until the 23rd of June...at least. It's possible the stay could be extended if he continues to make marked improvements and insurance cooperates. Oh!! Yes please!! The lead Neuro physician in charge of Jim's case commented that they don't see this kind of improvement usually, and they did not want the progress to slow or even regress by leaving. Answer to my prayer!

They have weekly meetings to evaluate. Petition prayer....stay...stay...stay!!

Progress...progress...progress...

Desire

 So, it has been a very busy several days on one hand, and some long dry moments on the on the other. It's all part of the process. You have to find the joy and the progress even in the dryer zones of life. And, in the times that blossom with many achievements, I find that tempering the excitement helps spread the joy to all the corners, making it enough to cover even lean times.

Looking at where Jim is, and where he was over eight weeks ago... Astonishing. The last three weeks has its own chart of progress. No remarkable (medical reference) left leg and foot action... To standing. Some communication....to small conversation and lots of verbal expression. Some think the healing is accelerating. Yes. But I, for one, think we simply can see the healing more easily now. A lot of the healing...most... is done in silent places. Secret gray matter chambers. Other realms of life. What is done there starts the tumbling of thousands of standing dominoes throughout the body. Next thing you know, Jim spouts out his phone number, 817-bleep bleep -bleep...b..b..b..bleep...between bites of lunch. Staff in the room thought he was just talking numbers again. Nope. Now what queued that thought, I have no clue.

He is actually engaging with other patients! Looking at them. Connecting and asking "How's it going?" " How's the soup?" Concern for others. That's Jim for sure. 

So, as Napoleon Hill said:

"The starting point of all achievement is desire. Keep this constantly in mind. Weak desire brings weak results, just as a small fire makes a small amount of heat."

I'm keeping the fire department number at the ready to handle our desires.

Love Note

 A little side track. But not off track. This is a little love note to thank each of you for your support, prayers, and unifying agreement for Jim's well being and full recovery. 

We have been receiving lovely cards and hand written notes at the post office from so many of you, in addition to the supportive comments, and it brings such a sense of community and connection. What you have been doing over the last 8 weeks...your thoughts...your prayers...your positive healing energy...has been a tremendous help to both of us.

What Jim was able to do this last week was a dream a month ago. Your prayers and support have worked with God to guide and launch him into the continuing recovery. And, we can't wait to see what the next week brings!

So from us....thank you.

Love,

Jim & Karen

It matters. And, your time and thoughts do not go unnoticed. 

5 Steps

 Running 5 to 6  miles weekdays and 10 to 12 miles on the weekends was normal for Jim. He was a sprinter originally in high school and college, super fast, some records still standing. Then over the years following, he moved in to distance. Genius time. Work it out time. De-stress time. Those kind of runs, certainly not something most people are going to do. But, he is not most people. We actually would talk about how it was difficult sometimes for people to relate to him when he would encourage someone about taking better care of themselves. No way were they going to take up running. Heck. Finding time to walk a mile was hard to think about. They were fighting twenty pounds. Jim never knew 20 extra pounds. But, his concern for a friend to be well, not only to lose the weight, but the heart or other bodily damage that could result always won out. He would find a way to bring it up. Not to be right. Not to embarrass someone. But, real concern. It was not uncommon for him to say, I'm worried about so and so.

At times, I think his kindness and concern for people, his ability to relate, could make him suspect in today's environment. But. No motives. It's such a rare thing. I don't know if people recognize that higher quality when they see it. I know when we met, I wondered if he was too good to be true. Well, he's true.

And, yesterday he took five steps. With a walker. Assisted on both sides. Five steps towards recovery. The ability to reach deep down and challenge himself still intact. I did not get to see it, but when I called to check on him, the staff said it made their day! It certainly made mine.

So, on behalf of Jim and his hope for people to be well... Do your five steps. Or your ten pound weights. Or your down-dog or jazzer size. Eat healthier and take your supplements. Take care of the beautiful body God gave you, so if you need to pull on the reserves for whatever reason, you have them. 

Use Jim to inspire you to be well. To be grateful. To do a little each day towards something bigger.

Today five steps. Tomorrow.......

Meatballs

 Meatballs in tomato sauce. Mashed potatoes in white gravy. Buttered corn. Peach crumble. Iced tea. With utensils. First meal.

The swallow test was a total success! So, within an hour or so, lunch was brought on a tray... with aromas. Can he hold a fork and spoon, yes. But, negotiating where the meatball is in reference to his mouth can be a little tricky sometimes. Also, there needs to be enough food on the fork to encourage chewing and not just swallowing. That is a choke hazard as much as too much food on the fork.

Although Jim is always the last to leave a dining table as the slowest eater under normal circumstances, the objective here is to get the food in him. Protein. Carbs. Energy. Calories. And, there is a bit of a schedule to consider, like PT and OT, so for the sake of time and efficiency, I got the privilege of managing the utensils as he picked what he wanted . Mostly meatballs. Almost all the meatballs... And a reasonable amount of corn and potatoes. All the iced tea, and a small bottle of water with a straw . Not keen on the peach crumble, but that's not new. He decided he was still hungry, so he used the fork to stab more meatballs and corn kernels, and tried to drink the peaches, forgetting he didn't like them. Then we were done. 

The lunch tray doesn't have to be picked up on time, but he does need to get his physical work in. That schedule changes daily and can be anywhere from 8 am  to 2pm. His tube feedings were like clockwork. Expose the feed tube and valves...protein mixture....Water.... Done and done.

What a delightful dilemma. Factoring in  food trays to physical workouts with terrific therapists who are putting those calories to use to build strength and balance.

Meatballs. Yum.

Midnight Ride

 Well. Another midnight ride to a hospital to reinsert the feed tube. After an apparently fitful evening the night before last, he yanked it out. Again, nothing drastic. But, until he passes the swallow test, the g tube stays in place to assure as much nutrition as possible. It is a lifeline.

This week, Jim has eaten a cracker, sherbert, and drank two bottles of water with a straw under supervision of the speech therapist. She has complete control of the situation, making sure he is not going to choke or aspirate into the lungs. That's bad. No shock either, that he wants to talk even with food in his mouth. "Eat the food, breathe the air", would be common out of his mouth before all of this, when he would choke or somehow forget to swallow. What he had to say...ahem...was more important apparently. Ahem.

So, the swallow test is today. Yay! A tiny camera... On a tiny tube... Takes a nasal and throat journey to witness the actions of the throat and tongue. Because Jim had a tracheotomy, the test is necessary to assure no damage is hiding, and that the brain is working as it should to tell these parts what to do. We expect all to be good. The ST expects he will start some kind of diet today, and the swallow test will determine the texture of the food. So, I have a list of preferred and no-way foods for the kitchen. Kind of like President George Bush and broccoli. No way.

Let's hear it for a lunch tray!

Yes. He is getting impatient. Yes There is agitation. Yes. He is definitely getting stronger. Yes. His trach is gone and the hole is completely scabbed over and healing beautifully. Yes. He is talking. What he talks about is another story. No. The conversation does not always make sense. No. You don't know if it's going to be eighteen year old Jim, or repair tech Jim, or engineer Jim. He's a time traveler. Yes. He can become overwhelmed very easily with too much stimulation. That includes people and conversation. Whether it's him or you talking. Yes. He is getting better every day. Yes. You should be proud of him. The recovery he has made in seven and a half weeks is worth talking about. 

So, the next midnight ride I am hoping for, is the one when we go out on purpose...during a meteor shower... and lay on the hood of the car... with snacks....to catch falling stars.

Hey Pard'

 OT, occupational therapy and PT, Physical therapy were in the morning. Unusual to be back to back, but that's the way the schedule went yesterday. Sometimes OT and PT overlap in the elements of their session. OT generally concerns itself with personal hygiene and self care, to be sure someone is capable of normal everyday regiment. There is also body movement.

But, the content of the session floats depending on the therapist and reading the patient at that moment. Yesterday, the therapist asked a lot from Jim. And, he delivered. Wheelchair parked at the foot of his bed, he used the footboard to pull himself up and stand, mostly on his own. Tall. Head up. At some point, letting go with one hand to be distracted by something to fuss with on the bed and only secured by the other hand. There were some tough sit squats added to the session. Coming out of the chair just enough to clear the seat and then sit down again. Then, standing, he shifted his weight from right foot to left foot and back again, and side stepping to the end of the footboard. It was wow!!

Later in the gym, while sitting in the wheelchair, PT asked him to kick his right leg out to bump the therapist's hand. Then left. I said left. Then right. Left. Back and forth, staying mostly on task, while he sometimes fixed imaginary wires as a phone tech at early AT&T. Then a boxing match! Right punch to the therapist's hand, left punch. Back and forth. When he let out a big old raspberry of exasperation, that was his sign off.

Watching Jim from the end of the gym, was a man in a wheelchair who had been working on the pedal machine with his upper body,. His legs gone. Resting himself, he greets Jim." Well done, Pard'." At first Jim did not respond, but when he made eye contact he thanked him. The old Pard' told him that he could tell how hard Jim was working, and that he looked great. A little later, we saw him again in the hall. I greeted him as Pard', And, he introduced himself as Mark. "Mark, meet Jim." Jim gave a nod and a wave. Mark proceeded to tell Jim how great he looked, again, and how well he was doing. We visited for just a moment or two, but I wanted Jim to connect to and acknowledge someone else. Someone with a loss. Someone that needed to be seen, and was bold enough to make the initial move. 

Whether that meeting encouraged him or not, I'll never know. But, Jim did wheel the chair part way down the hall. Whatever it takes.

Request

 So yesterday, I reminded Jim that I am writing in his blog. Yep, big guy. I figured out how to get into your blog and sit in your writer's chair. Instead of rubber duckies, eyebolts and credit cards that somehow you make into humorous stories, your readers are hearing about how you persevere. So, if you want to go for rubber duckie # 38  or #252, I forget...it's a gaggle for sure...you need to keep your eyes forward and your mind set to recovery.

That was a little tougher yesterday. He has had muscle cramps for a few days, so they are giving a muscle relaxers. The cramps don't surprise me. He has a tendency towards them, and often would pop up out of a sitting position like someone just zapped him with a cattle prod. Startles me every time. 🙄 So his now normal sleepy self had more drugs to muddle through. He sat in the wheelchair, chin on fist, rather than participate in a therapy circle. After all, if his eyes are closed, maybe this all wasn't happening. So... time for a chat.

A reminder that this is temporary. But in the meantime, maybe he could inspire people in the circle to try even when it was tough. That his normally extroverted self could help someone feel better, if just for a moment. That maybe if one of those patients was having a tough go, Jim could encourage like he normally would do pre-April 15th.

I'm not sure we are there yet. He is still figuring out what is going on with his normally responsive body and very bright brain. But, each day he tries and accomplishes one more feat, big or small, he is closer to helping someone else, too. So, my request is this: Please pray for him to see beyond his current limitations to his tomorrow... And to look to the left and to the right and to smile at someone and lift their day like he is used to doing. To recognize it is not a lesser position he is in, but only a different level of viewing. That he stays motivated and encouraged to try, even when the mountain is particularly high. And, that his wonderful brain continues to knit and weave all of the intricate parts back together in perfect harmony. Strong, healthy and clear, as the tech and operations center of his entire being. 

This is my request, today.

Stubborn

 In a lot of ways, Jim is making this healing journey look easy. I'm living it. There has not been anything easy about it. So when I read back through this journal of transition so far, the real trauma of the event and current status is not fully conveyed. I chose not to do that. To layer on all the details of the incident itself...what must have been horrifying at the least for anyone who was witness...would keep me stuck in those moments that changed Jim's world. Our world. Seeing him...barely recognizable... and the hours and days to follow...and hoping it was just a terrible nightmare. But, not. Taking the smallest changes or improvements as validations to my belief that he was coming back from this. Whole. And, terrified sometimes that I was banking on a fantasy.

It would have been easy to stay in moments of fear, especially very early on as I kept waiting to wake up. Still do now and then. There is no rule book on how to handle this surreal curve ball, so your faith is really all you can count on. And, that belief is what connected me to Jim when there were no words or movement. The deep belief in his intention to heal and be well...along with his dependence on the Creator to work with him to achieve that enormous task. To expect that God has a plan for something glorious to come from all this. Allowing only these beliefs to grow and expand and surround him, snuffing any other thoughts or objectives that do not align with that expectation.

Determined? Yes. Bullheaded? Possibly. But, sometimes you just have to stand... firm... on a rock...because any other option or outcome is just not acceptable. And, if that makes either of us stubborn, I'm okay with that.

Sermon

 A high school buddy called today. Long-time friends from school and similar backgrounds, both on the school track team. It's special to have friends for that long. Not that you talk often, but you pick up where you left off, and it's an easy transition. Jim didn't hold the phone, but he spoke to it. Not fully comfortable, I could see that as he fussed with the blanket and concentrated on what was being said. I reminded him of the story from long ago, when these two friends were competing at a major track meet held at Princeton. And, Jim urged his friend on from the side lines...Run Tommy! Run! It spurred Tom on then and seemed to jostle some pleasant memories now. As Tom told him he would run again, Jim responded with a "Yes, I will", a nod, and an expression of determination. 

As they talked a little more, I mentioned that Tom was needing to write a couple sermons to stand in for his pastor this month, and I wondered if Jim had any suggestions. He had no hesitation. " Equitability." His index finger extended, making the point. "Do the right thing. Always try to do the right thing." This is not imagination. This is foundation-Jim. 

We are still at a recovery stage where conversations can range from pizza, to connection boxes, the color blue, master files, and being Groot. And, he comes up with, "do the right thing."

There's a sermon in there somewhere. 

Piano Man

 After his initial walk, he went to peddling machine. I thought it was a good time for music. I suggested a few favorite talents when he agreed to Billy Joel, with eyebrows raised. So, I called out a few titles. "Piano Man", it is. A first for a specific request. 

It started out....

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in

There's an old man sittin' next to me

Makin' love to his tonic and gin.......

And,  then Jim chimes in........singing along.

"He says, "Son can you play me a memory?

I'm not really sure how it goes

But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man's clothes" 

So add lyrics to his list of recent accomplishments!

La, la-la, di-di-da
La-la di-di-da da-dum

Loss for Words

 Inside I am doing cartwheels, Jumping jacks, jazz hands...the level of my excitement is difficult to contain. It has been for a day now. Because, Jim walked yesterday.

Jim walked yesterday.

Jim walked yesterday.

In spite of all the stupid little things that did not line out the way they were supposed to or should have, the kitchen LED light fixture went out, the fact that the dog decided that the tweeting battery in the smoke detector that I couldn't reach was reason to lose her mind and kill the window blinds, the lack of time to get some paperwork done I needed, the driver that cut me off... Jim walked. 

So priorities straight, later after cleaning up window blind parts and getting a couple of papers taken care of, and shopping for new window blinds, I sat and enjoyed the success. Jim walked.

 With help from the wonderful physical therapist who parked Jim's wheelchair at the end of the parallel bars, he grabbed the bars and stood. Straight. And, with some support and careful thought, he moved one foot at a time and walked. Stopped. To turn around, I could see him calculating the best way to turn based on the security of his legs. It was so obvious. He turned right towards the stronger leg and walked back to the chair.

 Then he went to the pedal machine where his feet are placed with support in pads, the speed and patterned set... Forwards and backwards... And a video of him riding a bike on a trail help to launch goals.

 Left toes wiggled a week ago Tuesday. Left leg and foot movement last Saturday. Standing. Walking. Yesterday.

I have no words. Except... Thank you.

Jim walked yesterday.