June 17, 2006

A few odds and ends to start. 1)Evidently we got “Into Thin Air” confused with “Into the Void.” The latter is the movie we’ve seen; Gary has started the book with the former’s title, says it’s about a disastrous Everest climb and says he’s really enjoying it. 2) Jo Heath called my attention to the fact that tho she knows who to call, the people who gave her the information are John Hinrichsen, Eric Ford, and Donna Bennett. So, our thanks to them!

This morning as Gary’s tech went to hoist him through the air and into his chair, she seemed surprised I hadn’t learned how to get him settled into his chair yet and gave this speech about how they like family members to get involved in the care of the patients. I felt myself bristling, but tried to restrain myself – she was, after all, someone we hadn’t had before. Gary explained to her that I had been being involved but hadn’t been taught how to do this (the PT had shown me, but hadn’t had me do it because of my back). The tech showed how to lay him onto his sling by having him turn in the bed first to one side and positioning half of the sling so that when he turned onto his back he’d be on it right, then tucking the other half under him, then having him roll to the other side and pulling the tucked part out from under him and laying it flat, then finally having him lay on his back with the sling now perfectly (hopefully) under him. Then we hooked the sling onto the hoyer (this part I’d done before) with chains. As Gary used the control button to lift the sling up, the tech had me hold Gary’s legs and guide him over to the chair (this is one of the parts I’ve been worried about, since I am supporting the weight of his legs). Finally she showed me how she guided him into the chair as he operated the controls to lower the sling. The important part is to make sure his butt is as far back in the chair as possible and that his hips are even – he sometimes can’t tell, at least at this stage; in fact, several times the techs have asked him if he felt straight in the chair and he’s said yes, whereas when we look at him we can clearly see one hip jutted to the side. He decided the trick is to check the position of his knees, make sure one isn’t forward of the other.

Tomorrow I’m supposed to so this entirely myself (with the tech watching).

Just when he got settled into the chair, his siblings and nephew entered the room – his mom was still resting back at the condo. We headed to the garden. We took a spin around the small area, finding the weather pleasant, though Gary was not in complete agreement – he was the one working to move the chair around, and on top of that he was wearing a long sleeved T-shirt (the inside of Shepherd tends to be on the cool side). So he was ready for the cooler air of indoors. We exited the garden into the rec room where they have a pool table, table tennis table, and large TV set up (plasma, maybe – I don’t know my TVs). Gary and Justin decided to play pool. Now, it’s been many many years since I’ve seen Gary play pool, but still it was obvious to me that he was definitely nowhere near his former level of performance. He remarked that if you’ve never tried to play pool sitting down, it is quite an experience (and by the way he said it, you knew he wasn’t recommending it). He said it was the longest game of pool he’s ever played, and he gave a heartfelt thanks to Justin when Justin had gotten the last of the solids in and also the eight ball. I think Gary only managed to get two stripes in.

Continuing our little tour of the facilities, we next went to the Marcus building (part of the Shepherd center and where rehab is offered for those with brain injuries). We went down to the gym level to view the pool and to see the ProMotion gym (has special rehab equipment and is the gym open to the public). We then headed back to Gary’s room; it was obvious Gary was eager to get back there, having had enough activity for a while, tho he did briefly show the family the gym on his floor – that’s where he does his rehab.

The others left to check on Mom G, and Gary started in on his lunch. The tech came to put him back into the bed before he finished, and he was ready – definitely ready – for it. A scale was set up on the hoyer, and the tech took Gary’s weight. 127, about the same as they’d weighed him before the flap surgery. So even tho he’s been “packing it in,” he hasn’t gained anything. But at least he hasn’t lost anything, either, which is what the doctor thought might happen after the flap surgery (before the accident Gary consistently weighed 140, though I thought he looked best a bit lighter than that, say 132-5; he was at 132 in that photo from ’79).

He finished lunch, then we called my brother to talk about the house, including discussing a possible solution to what to use as a cat barrier – replacing the slatted double doors now functioning as a barrier with a single door having a recessed hinge. After that Gary took a nap and I answered some emails. His family rejoined us, including his mom, and we shot the breeze. One topic that came up was how Gary and I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary in August. This reminded Mom G of how my dad and mom had taken her and Fred (Dad G) and Bob out for a little tour of Chicago (I think this was the day after our wedding ceremony; Gary and I were on our honeymoon). I’m not sure if I got the story exactly right, but it’s something like this. My mom didn’t want to go if it involved a lot of walking. My dad assured her it wouldn’t. Mom G said it turned out practically all they did was walk, and they saw parts of Chicago they’d rather they hadn’t. “Bums and prostitutes,” Mom G said. At dinnertime, my dad was trying to find a nice place to eat, and I think the story is he couldn’t find the one he had in mind. At any rate, they asked a cop, and he directed them to a place. Mom G said the place was filled with cigarette smoke, and when they sat to eat, my dad and Dad G were approached by ladies who, well, er, ignored my mom and Mom G and lavished attention on the men. My dad told these nice ladies that he and the rest of his party had just come from a school board meeting, and then they left. Mom G went out on the steps, sat down, and roared with laughter.

They never did find a place to eat until they came all the way back to my parent’s town. There, they stopped in a restaurant that was closing up. My dad persuaded the restaurant folks to take the chairs down from a table and serve them.

Yup, that’s my dad, from start to finish.

Jack and Jane Brown stopped in while Gary’s family was there, bringing with them a card for Gary signed by attendees of the 30th Summer Symposium in Real Analysis. The Browns told us about the Carl Sandburg house in North Carolina they’d just come from visiting, saying they really enjoyed it (I hadn’t realized Sandburg had lived anywhere but Illinois). The talk turned to baseball – Jack and Gary are real Braves fans and have gone to a game together for each of the last several years; Norma roots for Houston; Bob for the Cardinals; and Donne for San Diego (the fact I’m not a baseball fan is probably obvious from the fact that I don’t name the Houston or S.D. teams. I’d say “Oilers” and “Padres,” but I’m thinking “Oilers” are football – I’m sure Houston fans are ready to shoot me – you know how they are with those guns in Texas ;-)).

Later that afternoon I had to do some errands. First was a stop at Fresh Market to pick up zukes. I got the usual question, both from the produce man (a different one this time) and from the checkout woman, namely, “What are you going to do with all that zuchinni?” “Eat it,” never seems to be an appropriate reply, so I tell them I have weird allergies and this is one of the few veggies I can eat.

I then stopped at a Publix to get some bottled water – much cheaper to get it there than to get the same stuff at the yuppie Fresh Market (tho their zukes are usually much better quality and therefore it’s worth the other stop). Next came a stop for gas. I decided to get a car wash as well. This was my first time in a car wash, which you would know if you ever saw my car. It was so dirty even I noticed that fact. I had the odd sensation while in the wash that it was my car that was moving, not the brushes and soaping and rinsing equipment. I experienced vertigo during it, but it was not unpleasant – kinda fun, actually. After that I had to make another stop at a different Publix because I remembered something I’d forgotten to get (this was a way I could tell I was tired out – there were only three things on my list). As I got out of the car, I noted that it didn’t look much better than before the wash – some of that dirt must be ground in.

When I later returned to Gary’s, he asked for fruit and baby greens to complete the dinner he’d finished an hour previously. He said it had been a good one – catfish and green beans – but that was all he’d ordered and it was not enough. After all this good-for-you stuff, he said, “Now how ’bout that dessert?” So I went to the patients’ fridge and got him the ice cream and brownie and chocolate sauce left over from last night’s treats from Ted’s. Just then the Gruenhage clan came, except for Mom G – she was back at Helen’s resting. I feel so sorry for her – coming all this way to see her son and then breaking her arm and having to spend so much of the time resting instead.

At one point Norma told Gary the story of how all her class knew of his accident and how they had all sent her a large bouquet of flowers after learning of the news. She mentioned that when the kids found out about it at chapel (Norma teaches at a Lutheran school; her husband Wayne became the principal there years ago), the first thing they asked her was if this was the brother of hers that they “knew.” That, we needed an explanation of. She started the explanation by making sure we understood that she always builds Gary up and the kids know he is very smart. But, she uses Gary to illustrate a point in her science class every year, the point being that even though you can be a very smart person, you still need to use sense (the way she put this had me nearly falling down with laughter, especially as I think of Gary as someone eminently commonsensical, whereas I am not). The illustrative story is the one where Gary found a container of unknown chemical in the basement and put some into a spoon and tried to light it. It didn’t light, so he blew on it. And it blew up in his face. Rocket fuel. He still has a tiny scar above his lip from it. (He is lucky that that is the only visible reminder of it; had he not been wearing glasses (which blackened during the explosion and he threw them off) or had his mom not put his face under running water then whisked him off to the doctor, the results might have been far worse.)

The rocket fuel story led the Gruenhage siblings to reminisce about the farm they grew up on and about all the wild or mischievous things they had done as kids – the story where a very young Gary suggested an even younger Bob hide under the farm porch until he dried out after getting completely soaked from head to toe after falling into a creek none of them were supposed to be near had us all in hysterics. Bob followed Gary’s suggestion, but this brilliant cover-up attempt didn’t work out. Their mom wanted to know where Bob was, since Donne and Gary were in the house carrying on as usual and little Bob was nowhere to be found.

Back in my hotel room I noticed the quietness of the surroundings. I went to bed, hopeful. At midnight, I was shot awake by a horrific racket – it took me a moment to identify the noises as those made by the hounds of hell, which apparently belong to my next door neighbor, aka Satan. The hounds barked and carried on while the demonic one took his sweet time getting into his room (that, of course, was part of my eternal punishment).

I can’t believe it – here I ask them not to put me in a particular room because there are dogs next door, and I get put in a different room with dogs next door. And I know Beelzebub has been here since before the day I checked in, because he had a “no service today” sign on his door when I was first moving in.

I finally fell back asleep, and some time later was ripped awake again. I then heard a door slam, from where, I don’t know. I’m not sure what originally woke me. After a while my heart stopped pounding, and I dozed off, but I don’t think I slept long. At four-thirty I woke again, shaking – having what I call the CFS shakes, since I never had them before I had the illness. I continued to shake for about two hours, feeling absolutely horrible. I meditated throughout that time, but what I needed was sleep. I finally got relaxed enough to doze off until close to eight. I got up feeling very dragged out, and when I got to Gary’s I started crying. I don’t want to go through all the tiredness I experienced in that first month again. So I’m not sure what to do – hope it was a weekend fluke and stay where I am, ask for a different room, try the other Residence Inn that is further away, or go to Holiday Inn Express which would cost over twice as much (assuming I can get in at all) but where we’ve stayed before and had pretty good luck with in terms of quietness. All but the first option would, of course, mean I have to pack everthing up again and move myself, this time with no help at all.

One problem with being tired is it makes thinking and decision-making much harder.

All for now.