December 25 (Christmas)

After a lot of thought and deliberation, we decided that taking Dad out of the care center for part of the day on Christmas might not be a good idea.  We had our usual Christmas morning breakfast at Ted's house, which had great food and company, but it just felt like something was missing without Mom and Dad there.  We felt bad leaving Dad in the care center, but when we talked to him about it, he'd seemed nonchalant or against it (because it would be too much of a hassle).  He does quite often say "get me out of this place" but then he realizes how difficult it would be for him to be in a normal home, with no nurses, no therapists, nobody trained to get him in and out of bed and bathed and toileted.  Honestly, we were all afraid we'd hurt him.

One ray of hope happened Christmas night, however.   I have been asking Dad the same math question since the first day I saw him in the Plentywood hospital (100 - 7).  That first time, which was approximately November 18th, he answered something off the wall like 33 1/3.  The next time  asked him was probably about a month later, and his answer was also wrong, something like 130.  Christmas night, he seemed to be very lucid and we were conversing with him well, so I asked him that question again, and after maybe 5 seconds of thought, he gave the right answer.  I said "Dad, your brain is working better!" and told him I'd been asking that same question since he first had the stroke and that he'd never got it right before.  He seemed encouraged by that, so hopefully it will help motivate him to keep trying.

He said he does enjoy therapy now, even though it's "torture" because of the pins and needles feeling in his arm and the pain in his knees.  He likes it because he is incredibly bored in his room, and he enjoys getting out to the therapy gym and watching all the people--patients, nurses, and other therapists.  

He talks a lot of going back to Plentywood, and from what I can understand, I think he is under the impression that he could live at home and then have someone (he even suggested the ambulance) drive him back and forth to Plentywood for therapy or other medical needs.  We've had to explain to him that he would not be able to live alone in any home, and that we are pretty sure he couldn't live outside a hospital until he progresses a lot more in his strength and ability to stand and at least get himself to the bathroom.

Anytime we speak of Mom, Dad still cries.  The picture of the two of them together that we have up in his room generates a lot of comments from the staff.  They say how beautiful she is and what a great pair they made.  I know Dad wishes that she could be here to help him get better, and he misses her companionship and quick decision-making.  I always think that Mom would know just what to say and do when Dad is being ornery or talking nonsense.  Jan and I are having to learn how to deal with him, but sometimes it is not easy!!  We always say "How on earth did Mom live with this guy for 43 years!?"  :)

I plan to be present sometime this week for one of Dad's therapy sessions.  I'd like to witness his progress in person and verify the staff's reports of improvement.  Thanks to everyone for their cards and their calls.  Dad has been answering his cell phone intermittently, so if you call, hopefully you'll catch him in a talkative and non-groggy mood!