Saturday, November 8

One week with Tommy home, and what a week it's been. Very steep learning curve for both of us. The team that is taking care of him--from the Beebe Home Health Agency--is outstanding. (This agency is affiliated with Beebe Hospital in Lewes, where Tommy was taken when he had his stroke; and Beebe took such good care of him that I figured the home health agency would be very good, too.) Tommy's physical therapist, Paul, has had him walking across the living room using the walker; Paul is also working with Tommy a lot on transfers, because Tommy still has that bad habit of trying to sit down before he has completely finished pivoting. The rest of the team is Stephanie (occupational therapist), Gail (nurse and sometimes aide), Jill (speech pathologist) and Reva (aide). In one week, there have been a total of twelve visits by these folks. A typical day was yesterday: Gail came first thing in the morning and took Tommy's vital signs (all fine); Paul came at 11; then Stephanie and Reva came together after lunch to give Tommy a shower (he did very well). So, all systems are go. Today is a day of rest for both of us. It's odd not to be hanging out with our friends at Renaissance rehab--we miss so many of the staff, patients and patients' families that we got to know there. There are several with whom we now stay in touch--we all hope we'll be able to get together before too long.
The last couple of days, Tommy and I have finally begun to relax a little. Late yesterday afternoon, Tommy was napping and I was on the porch playing with Penny when I heard him call. I went to the bedroom and said, "You okay?" "Yeah," he mumbled sleepily, "I was having a dream." "Was it a good dream?" I asked. "Mm-hmm," he said. "What were you dreaming about?" I asked. "Eatin' ribs," he finally mumbled, as he dozed back off to continue the feast.