New digs, again . . .

Heard the most wonderful sound today, the sound of a real, hearty laugh from Bob, for the first time in so long, I can't even remember when I last heard that laugh of his, months . . . I was sitting next to his bed, reading, and thought he had fallen asleep watching TV when I heard it. It startled me because it sounded so foreign, but made me laugh, too, even though I had no idea what prompted it. An all-out, real-live laugh, followed by, "Hey you dang woodchucks! Quit chuckin' my wood!" in his best creepy Deliverance-hillbilly voice. I looked up to see the Geico commercial where a pair of wood chucks are, well, chucking wood into a pond. I looked at Bob, he's got a huge grin on his face . . .I think I had a stupid grin on my face for the rest of the day, every time I thought of the commercial and Bob laughing out loud at it. . .

Bob's being moved to Bethesda Hospital tomorrow, a long term acute care hospital. It's not part of the U of M system, but they get many referrals from the U, as it's an "in between" care facility—a step between the short term acute care of a "regular" hospital and the TCU or acute rehab. I should really draw a flowchart to explain the levels of care, but truthfully I still don't know the extent of all that's available, as far as care facility options are, so I won't, for fear of confusing all of us even more. He's qualified for this level of care, we're told, as he's stable, has no critical issues going on right now, and is therefore not sick enough to be in a "regular" hospital any longer. But, he still requires more extensive hospital-type care (the extensive wound care, the necessary IV stuff right now) than what acute rehab or even TCU can do. This is from the hospital's website:

"At Bethesda Hospital, we understand the staggering effects of a severe injury or illness, and we specialize in providing innovative approaches to treatment and recovery.

Our staff members have a tradition of combining expert medical care and innovative rehabilitation techniques that focus on abilities rather than disabilities. We offer programs in Respiratory Care, Complex Medical Care and Brain Injury Services."

Bethesda offers extensive rehab services (PT, OT, other therapies, psychology services, support groups, etc.), but in a more comprehensive, hospital-like setting. They're equipped and specifically trained to deal with patients who are facing a long recovery from illness or injuries, with additional complications such as wound care, necessary IV medications, respiratory care . . . CTs, MRIs and other services are available, they staff every -ologist under the sun (well, except for oncologists, but if needed, Bob can be transported to the U for any appointments necessary with his primary team there), as well as dieticians, spiritual counseling, and other services for specific conditions like brain injuries and severe respiratory cases. The average stay at this facility is about 30 days.

So again, my question was, "Where was this option seven weeks ago, after Bob's surgery?" Well, I'm told, he wouldn't have qualified for the facility back then because he didn't have a wound that needed daily cares, didn't have necessary IV nutrition/meds, wasn't "critical" enough back then. Oh, really? So, it didn't count that he was "just" recovering from an extensive surgery that resulted in removing a huge chunk of his pelvis, with visible complications right from the start, on top of the effects of a year-long battle with cancer that wasted his body to a frail old-man version of himself, along with two heart attacks and endless complications resulting from the disease, the heart attacks, the treatments? That's not sick enough? But now, just because he has a few bags of IV solutions and an open wound (that we've been told, many times over that it's really not as bad as some wounds are). . . man, if someone out there could explain this back-assward concept in a way that it makes sense, but something tells me that ain't possible . . . Preventive medicine is not a goal in our present healthcare system, I am telling you. My Krazy Konspiracy Theorie is sounding less and less Krazy, and more and more scary-real. . .

I stopped by Bethesda on my way to the hospital this morning, got the grand tour. It's a beautiful facility, private rooms, felt almost like a hotel than a hospital. It's right behind our state capitol building, and I didn't expect the surroundings to be much to speak of, but was surprised at how beautiful the grounds are, and the surrounding neighborhood is. The therapy room is the size of a workout club . . . doesn't have the slasher-movie "sanitarium" feel that Fairview had . . . I had a good feeling, leaving Bethesda, like finally, this is the place that Bob should be in. Not at all like how I felt when he was being shipped over the river to Fairview's acute rehab. . .

While he's there, I think I'm going to arrange a tour of the capitol. I've never been in it. Not even in grade school, when youngsters are supposed to get the class trip that coincides with a history lesson. No, I was part of the one and only 6th grade class in the history of Mt. Lake Elementary that had that privilege ripped from us, thanks to the antics of a few unruly classmates . . . a few bad seeds, and we all had to suffer. . .when I call to schedule my tour, I'm going to make sure I get included in with a 6th grade class tour, to get the full effect of what I'd missed back in 1980.

Wow, do I digress . . . Bob seems to be okay with the idea of going to Bethesda. He said, "For once, it sounds like it might be a real step forward, to get me closer to home . . ." I really do feel good about it, too. I'm almost scared to type those words. . .