Something's come between Bob and me . . .

I feel something's come between Bob and me . . . this is the view I get when Bob is up and out of bed, and into a chair. The room he's in is so tiny and cramped, with all the equipment and furnishings that one can barely turn around without tripping on a cord, a pillow, or something. He has a roommie, too, a very nice man who's very quiet (as is his family), and we barely hear boo from them, except to exchange a few pleasantries when we're coming or going. But adding another patient to the room requires serious strategerizing, getting wheel chairs in and out, getting Bob up and out of bed, etc. In fact, when we bring in a wheel chair, the nurses have to remove half the furnishings in the room, to clear a wide enough path. Seriously. His nurse, one night, said, "If I ever meet the person who designed these rooms, I'm gonna slap him upside the head!"

The past few days have been busy, busy, busy, with three scheduled sessions of PT and OT every day. Just a few days ago, we needed three people hovered around his bed to get him up. Standing at the walker took every ounce of strength he could muster, and pivoting to the chair beside the bed was a heroic effort. Today, Bob damn near swung himself over to the side of the bed, he was so rarin' to go with PT. . . I had to slow him down, as he still can't move his right leg much on his own, and I didn't want him hurting himself in all his unbridled enthusiasm.

A few days ago, taking a few steps forward was a monumental task, requiring at least two

people by Bob's side, guiding, spotting, helping as needed, with Bob grimacing, struggling to keep himself upright on the walker. Today, Bob's PT got him up and walking (with the walker) through his room, out into the hallway and back, without the hip brace (I do need to try to get a pic of that contraption—I put it on myself yesterday, just to feel what it was like. Awkward and cumbersome, yes, but I can see how Bob might feel more secure with it, as it does support the leg and hip, and because he has little control over his right leg at this time, any additional support is good). Bob calls his PT "Vern," after the Asian designer on Trading Spaces. . . "just because he's Asian doesn't mean he looks like Vern," I scold, though I now find myself calling him Vern, too . . . everyone has nicknames here at the U . . . to protect the innocent. And a few guilty, too . . .

Vern is a tiny man—I can only describe him as petite. He's gotta be a marathon runner—I can totally see that, with his lean, slight build, his focused manner. . . and seriously makes me feel like an Amazon woman next to him . . . Vern works really well with Bob. He's been able to get Bob up and out of bed, and get his brace on, all on his own, without issues. He's careful, yet challenging, a delicate balance that he works to Bob's advantage, because he knows Bob is very motivated. Bob was kind of winded after that first walk, and when they got back to the bed, Vern sat him down and gave him a gentle lecture about how it's great that he's pushing himself so much already, that he's so ready to get moving. But Bob also has to "respect his pain" and the fact that even though in his head, he might be willing, his body needs time to catch up . . .

Vern (I really need to stop calling him that, because I know I'll slip up at the hospital one of these days . . . ) comes by twice a day, sometimes getting Bob up, transferring from bed to chair, and/or to wheel chair, or walker, depending on the tasks of the day, sometimes working on strengthening his leg muscles, or on endurance. . . a great guy, that Vern . . .

Bob's TPN (the IV nutrition) was discontinued tonight, so Bob should be on his own, as far as nutrients, hydration, etc. go. Now, I really need to step up the orders to eat more, drink more, all that stuff I haven't been too naggy about, since he was getting the IV stuff. Speaking of food,

Bob ordered French toast for breakfast this a.m. Thinking the toast was called Texas French toast (though seriously, could there be two more divergent cultures coming together? A beautiful thing), I guess we just assumed it'd be a big honkin' serving, especially since his pancake yesterday was the size of a manhole cover. To the right is a pic of his breakfast this a.m. I'm thinkin' Bob got Rhode Island French toast . . .

Still not sure about discharge; they're talking possibly some time this coming week. Bob needs to be off IV meds, which I believe he is, now, just since today. From the U of M hospital, he'll likely head to subacute transitional care (more basic), and hopefully cruise right along to the acute therapy program. And, if things play out right, he can go back to the Riverside unit, which would make things very easy, to stay within the system . . .

Anyhow, that's all I know. Nite-nite! xxoo!