Hopes of Resilience

Every day, we get up and keep on conquering another day as each stroke recovery obstacle pops up. There have been days when I glanced at our catalpa tree and thought to myself, “I feel a lot like that wounded catalpa tree.”

Thieves of sorts pecked away and left a large hole in my heart. I’m wounded deep into my core, shriveled up in parts, thriving in others, stripped of many joys of the past, wondering if a patch job of sorts would help. The me in the shadows still tries to play with her camera occasionally.

Thankfully, I’m hanging in there doing life best as I can. Resilience. I’m sure Mr. feels a similar way. Only harder when trying to imagine life out of a wheelchair and walking normal again. Someday honey, someday!

Hope of resilience and rewiring the neuropathways to functioning and blooming again feeds our souls.

It’s amazing what a bit of concrete patch can do to revive a catalpa tree. This tree has always been a favorite of mine and its resilience inspires me. It didn’t look like it would survive this spring after a pileated woodpecker attacked it, starlings built a nest in it, and a red squirrel kicked them all out claiming the spot before we had Mr.’s dad patch the big holes. After that, it has revived! And appears to be thriving.

And so are we!

So wow…howdy blogosphere friends! It’s been a long time since I wrote a post. For those inquiring minds, who haven’t given up on me and Mr., aka, those faithful folks who are still here for the long-haul of my random acts of blogging. Here’s an update.

Some great news. really sad news, good news, and some in progress news.

Great news:

Progress for Mr. continues, slow and steady. One of his, near and dear to his heart, goals met – he stood up out of his wheelchair, walked across a carpeted room with assistance of his hemi-walker, gave our daughter a hug, and stood for family photos at her baby shower.

That day was so special in many ways. Standing in the middle of our two daughters was the last big memory he had of Father’s Day, just a week before his stroke 2 years ago. A milestone goal to stay the least.

Yep, we’ve also celebrated quietly the passing of year 2 anniversary of the massive stroke that changed our whole family’s lives.

Our use of the Turner Pro (TP) has been gradually moved to storage mode for two important uses. His PT helped us learn how to get into the front seat of the car so he can ride shotgun instead of in the backseat behind me. PT taught us how to use the hemi-walker instead. A joyful accomplishment for both of us. I have one less piece of equipment to lug around and lift in/out of the car. Mr. gets to sit in front seat and see the view of the road he hasn’t seen for a long time. We’ve also been able to do transfers without TP for getting into/out of bed. He’s rocking the one armed sitting up on the side of the bed. Plus transferring to the transport chair from bed without the TP. We still have the TP available ‘in case’.

This new found freedom has helped us go on errands together as part of therapy. This past week, we went to the pharmacy, bank, and Menards. The smile on Mr.’s face is such a heart warming reward for both of us, hearing him say, “I can’t tell you how much this bit of normal feels so great, thank you!” Before the stroke, his role was the errand guy and he’s missed it more than we both realized.

His blood pressure, rash saga, and seizures of last summer have found a better path. Fortunately all have done better with less medications. I tend to shock the doctors when I say, “Well, I was thinking the dose is too high.” Go me…that’s worked so far. I shudder when I think back to 2 years ago and how many medications and interventions he was on that compounded the challenges to recovery. In his case, less is more/better when it comes to helping his recovery and ability to move without dizziness caused by medications.

Really sad news:

After a really, really, really long time in cat life, our suffering kitty, Dessy, was helped by me to the rainbow bridge. Yeah, I was hoping she’d fall asleep at home and go there herself. The vet said, “It rarely happens like that.” Dessy is resting comfortably with Copper in pet heaven. I don’t want to share the stress we both went through, suffice it to say, it was SOOOOO hard neither one of us recognized the other. I couldn’t recognize myself. We are thankful she’s at peace. She was 17!

Tizzie, her sister, is still with us doing well for an aging cat. The stress of Dessy’s long goodbye no longer lingers in the house. For that, I guess, it’s good news. We’ll forever miss her sweet face as we remember her life with us as a treasured memory.

My dad…sadly, his transition to the memory care facility has been extra tough on him. He’s still packed and ‘ready to leave’ almost every day. My mom went through that but it only lasted a few weeks. My dad’s intensity of wanting to leave remains a daily challenge. The thoughts I have about having him live with us instead of there pop in/out of my mind. I only have so much in me to do what I have to do already. I know in my heart, he understands that.

Good news:

We have arrived at a newer independence mode in Mr.’s stroke recovery. He cruises around the main floor of the house in his formerly complicated to him and his vision wheelchair. He’s doing the ambulatory things that the home health therapists wanted him to do when they were here a year ago. He stands up out of his wheelchair at the sink with ease. Maybe there’s a future of someday having him help with washing dishes again.

This month marks the 2-year anniversary of when he was admitted to the swing bed hospital for therapy. He’s finally wearing the therapy shorts that he got in the hospital. Styling, right!? Yeah…he is WAY better than when that stay took place. I can take him outside to sit on our patio alone in the sun, along with his phone with Siri to call me for help if needed, He likes to do that while I work. I can go run errands mostly worry free now. Remember how last year the first time I did, I cried?! The mild refractory epileptic seizures remain unpredictable, so being away for long periods isn’t something we feel comfortable doing. On the weekends, I can also partake in a midday nap while he keeps busy on his own. Many small milestones each day keep us motivated.

In process news:

You know, if you’ve been following my blog for years prior to Mr.’s stroke, I have challenges when it comes to logistics involving building/construction and measuring. While I find that stuff fascinating and love it when it pulls together, the master builder has always been Mr. His brain continues to be that person. His body’s ability lags behind. It has become ‘lil ol’ me to figure things out and execute the plan while he supervises and I swear. Oh, the list of things ‘to do’ keeps on a growing! And my less than appropriate for public vocabulary flows quite easily.

I see ‘it’ working perfectly and flawlessly (big dreamer!) before it actually works. Lots of trial and errors happen. Entered in a new goal of not needing to go outside in the winter to get in/out of the car. The outside ramp was constructed by a gifted group of volunteers who obviously understood ramp building and functionality. Our ramp outside continues to help us get in/out of the house. It was the key piece of equipment that made us able to bring Mr. home December 2024. It has something on it that helps us tremendously – a railing. Mr. uses it to grab to help me slowly move the wheelchair down the ramp backwards and to help him pull up with the momentum when I’m pushing him up the ramp. The weight moved is 81.5 #s for the Bentley LT wheelchair + 167 #s of Mr. It works for me, weighing in at 110 #s. Physics matters. Gosh…I wish I would’ve done better in physics class eons ago!

But…in my brain…that’s not that big of a deal, right? We came up with a plan on how to do all that stuff in the garage in the winter. I ordered a portable ramp. Coolest thing…folds up and has handles for carrying. Weight of 37 #s. Yay ME!

We embarked on the trial. Both of us sure it would work. Adjusting the plan as we tried each idea. When we tried 2 different wheelchairs. I discovered how quickly the descent went (scary!) and how incredibly hard going up just 1/4 of the way on the ramp was as I felt the defeat push me back down. Sigh. Our goal defeated again. Thankfully, neither one of us was physically hurt beyond repair!

Yep – you smart folks, it was due to buying the wrong sized ramp! Unfortunately, I had ordered a ramp that showed in the pictures one could easily move a wheelchair over 2-3 stairs no problem! NOT! Rise of 19″ needs an 8′ ramp (or more, but past that they aren’t portable anymore). I had bought a 6′ ramp. With fingers crossed I ordered and we tried an 8′ ramp.

This time, I solicited an assistant to stand alongside to help just in case I wasn’t able to get him pushed up the ramp and didn’t fall down as we came down the ramp. I grunted and pushed him up the ramp. Whew…I felt every dormant muscle I have as I did it. Those swear words were close to the edge of my lips. But it was ‘easier’ than the 6′ ramp. However, the extra 2′ on the portable ramp make it much harder to do all the steps of folding and storing. Plus, the garage door would have to be left open because the car has to be backed up to make room. The goal was to not have to open the door in the winter!

We spent 2.5 hours trying to figure out a solution along with Mr.’s 89-year-old dad. Go team… We folded up the ramp and set it aside so we can ponder more. We’ll get it figured out before the snow flies.

In the meantime, Mr. will get stronger. He might just be able to step up/down the stairs as he’s working on them in therapy so we can go see our grandson when he’s born in August. Mr.’s Dad might be able to build some addition to the stairs and add a railing for Mr. to use to assist me like he does outside. This delay in solving the situation is just another obstacle to freedom to do the next recovery goal. I can think of a few of you handy blogger buddies that could figure it out, whatever ‘it’ is to make the goal a reality. Send us your ideas, positive vibes, and well wishes please!

I miss all of you terribly…what’s new with you? Hugs and smiles from our home to yours!