July 9, 2006
I am posting three times today, so you may want to check the blog entry below this one to see if you have seen them.
Before I get to the main entry recounting today, let me state here, because someone asked for clarification, that the current plan is that we are leaving Shepherd for home on July 27th, and we do not plan to return for the day program until December. They had first changed the discharge date to the 28th, but then moved it to the 27th, because they don’t discharge people on Fridays as a rule. By being discharged on Thursday, if something were to come up immediately upon arriving home, we could head right back to Shepherd and a full staff would be available; but if we were discharged on Friday, if something were to happen, there would only be the weekend skeleton crew to deal with it.
Back to Sunday. I already told you a little bit about today in the last entry. I left off just before we went on an outing to the CVS pharmacy up the block, so I will start with that. We began the outing by going to the first floor of Shepherd and then down the hallway to “The Blue Carpet” tunnel. Gary said, “See ya,” and took off. We played our version of the tortoise and the hare, me lagging far behind him on the long downhill slope of the first two-thirds of the tunnel (which would turn into a challenge on the way back), then easily catching up to him as he worked his way up the slope of the last third of the tunnel to the elevator – but he was pleased with his efforts as this was the first time he’d made that slope with no rests. Stepping out of the elevator, we were magically across the street from Shepherd and nearly a block away. CVS was across the next side street.
In the store, we picked up a few items – and talked on the phone to Joe, since he called while we were in there. Among his good news was that the cat barrier had been primed (I wouldn’t want to spend one night in the house without that being up! ;-)). At checkout, the credit card reader posed a little bit of a hassle, but Gary figured out that the best thing was to just pick it up and put it on his lap – it was so designed that this could be done. After that, we decided to check out the Tropical Smoothie Café down the block. Their idea of what was accessible left something to be desired. Right when you opened the door, there was a ramp. So to get into the café, first Gary had to get the heavy door open and then immediately try to go up the short and rather steep ramp. The workers tried to rush to Gary’s aid but we waved them off, telling them Gary was practicing. The two Latinos then turned into a cheering squad, urging Gary up the ramp (“You can do it, amigo”). He didn’t make it – I had to push him up it – but the workers continued in their friendly way, offering him encouragement, telling him he’d make it next month, that he just needed to get a little stronger, and so forth. Gary decided that after his efforts he needed a protein smoothie, so he got something called a “Power ‘Health Nut’ Smoothie,” with blueberries, mango, banana, almonds, and whey protein. The smoothie was huge, and when they brought it out, they gave me a cup of it too. They had been so friendly, I didn’t feel I could refuse to take it, so I had a little of it, hoping I wouldn’t have too bad a reaction to it. We turned from the counter with our goodies, and the workers thought we were heading out, so they rushed over to open the door for Gary. But he decided to pull up to a table for a while. They rushed over and cleared chairs out of his way. Now that was service.
Gary drank about half of his smoothie, and then we left, me carrying his drink (because him holding a large drink between his legs while going down the bumpy slope of Peachtree Rd did not seem to be a good idea). Oh – and on the way out he got the door open himself.
We strolled along the sidewalk on this same block, stopping outside of Mama Fu’s to read the large menu attached to the wall of the building. They have red Thai curry, so Gary thinks that sometime while he is here he’d like to come to Mama ;-).
After crossing the first side road, he couldn’t get up the curb cut – he backed up and tried a different approach (fortunately the light was still with us). He tried again, but his wheelchair again turned to the left when he didn’t want it to. He continued to pull at the wheels, trying to get up the slope, but he finally asked for my help and I gave him the last needed push. Just then I looked up to see a man tearing down the sidewalk toward us. “Is everything okay?” he asked. We assured him we were fine. It was nice that people were so willing to be helpful if we needed it. I wondered if it had anything to do with the location – people in this area must be used to seeing patients from Shepherd making their first ventures out into “the real world.”
Back in the Blue Carpet tunnel, he now had that long slope to go up to get back into the Shepherd building. He did it with three rests, far fewer than the first times he’d attempted it. I told him we could come here every Sunday and test his progress by seeing how few rests he could do it in. “Great,” he said with mild sarcasm. I told him we didn’t have to, but he said, no, I was right, it would be a good test and give him some exercise at going up slopes.
Back in his room, it was time to put his feet up – he’s been having some problem regulating the volume of his ICs (too high sometimes, which is not good – review my bladder lecture ;-)), and this was a suggestion that had been made to us to try. Easier said than done. The man’s hamstrings are tighter than taut bowstrings, and it was a struggle for me to get his legs up on the chair. There was no hope of straightening them – his knees jutted up. So unintentionally this turned into a stretching exercise for his legs. After a half hour, I got his feet off the chair, and soon after that I left.
When I returned in the evening, we did the usual stuff. After stretching him, I positioned him, remembering to shove him far over to one side so I could climb in with him. We lay there and listened to one of his roommates snoring, another one on the speaker phone letting the whole ward know what was going on in his life (why would anyone think others would be interested in the details of their life? ;-)), and the other one talking to himself (this person is the newest one in the room, having been there about two weeks; at first I thought he was on the phone all the time, but Gary told me it was not that but that he talked to himself constantly – including all through the night).
“This is nice,” Gary said, meaning the snuggling, or as we term it, “hoodleing.” “Why didn’t we think of this before?” he continued. On account of his flap, I told him – we’d had to be so careful of his positioning. And before that I’d thought he was too delicate. We then said some mushy stuff, and then he asked what I wanted to do for our anniversary, which we should be home for. I said, “Spend all day in bed sleeping.” “Sounds good,” he replied.
And on that note, good night :-)
I am posting three times today, so you may want to check the blog entry below this one to see if you have seen them.
Before I get to the main entry recounting today, let me state here, because someone asked for clarification, that the current plan is that we are leaving Shepherd for home on July 27th, and we do not plan to return for the day program until December. They had first changed the discharge date to the 28th, but then moved it to the 27th, because they don’t discharge people on Fridays as a rule. By being discharged on Thursday, if something were to come up immediately upon arriving home, we could head right back to Shepherd and a full staff would be available; but if we were discharged on Friday, if something were to happen, there would only be the weekend skeleton crew to deal with it.
Back to Sunday. I already told you a little bit about today in the last entry. I left off just before we went on an outing to the CVS pharmacy up the block, so I will start with that. We began the outing by going to the first floor of Shepherd and then down the hallway to “The Blue Carpet” tunnel. Gary said, “See ya,” and took off. We played our version of the tortoise and the hare, me lagging far behind him on the long downhill slope of the first two-thirds of the tunnel (which would turn into a challenge on the way back), then easily catching up to him as he worked his way up the slope of the last third of the tunnel to the elevator – but he was pleased with his efforts as this was the first time he’d made that slope with no rests. Stepping out of the elevator, we were magically across the street from Shepherd and nearly a block away. CVS was across the next side street.
In the store, we picked up a few items – and talked on the phone to Joe, since he called while we were in there. Among his good news was that the cat barrier had been primed (I wouldn’t want to spend one night in the house without that being up! ;-)). At checkout, the credit card reader posed a little bit of a hassle, but Gary figured out that the best thing was to just pick it up and put it on his lap – it was so designed that this could be done. After that, we decided to check out the Tropical Smoothie Café down the block. Their idea of what was accessible left something to be desired. Right when you opened the door, there was a ramp. So to get into the café, first Gary had to get the heavy door open and then immediately try to go up the short and rather steep ramp. The workers tried to rush to Gary’s aid but we waved them off, telling them Gary was practicing. The two Latinos then turned into a cheering squad, urging Gary up the ramp (“You can do it, amigo”). He didn’t make it – I had to push him up it – but the workers continued in their friendly way, offering him encouragement, telling him he’d make it next month, that he just needed to get a little stronger, and so forth. Gary decided that after his efforts he needed a protein smoothie, so he got something called a “Power ‘Health Nut’ Smoothie,” with blueberries, mango, banana, almonds, and whey protein. The smoothie was huge, and when they brought it out, they gave me a cup of it too. They had been so friendly, I didn’t feel I could refuse to take it, so I had a little of it, hoping I wouldn’t have too bad a reaction to it. We turned from the counter with our goodies, and the workers thought we were heading out, so they rushed over to open the door for Gary. But he decided to pull up to a table for a while. They rushed over and cleared chairs out of his way. Now that was service.
Gary drank about half of his smoothie, and then we left, me carrying his drink (because him holding a large drink between his legs while going down the bumpy slope of Peachtree Rd did not seem to be a good idea). Oh – and on the way out he got the door open himself.
We strolled along the sidewalk on this same block, stopping outside of Mama Fu’s to read the large menu attached to the wall of the building. They have red Thai curry, so Gary thinks that sometime while he is here he’d like to come to Mama ;-).
After crossing the first side road, he couldn’t get up the curb cut – he backed up and tried a different approach (fortunately the light was still with us). He tried again, but his wheelchair again turned to the left when he didn’t want it to. He continued to pull at the wheels, trying to get up the slope, but he finally asked for my help and I gave him the last needed push. Just then I looked up to see a man tearing down the sidewalk toward us. “Is everything okay?” he asked. We assured him we were fine. It was nice that people were so willing to be helpful if we needed it. I wondered if it had anything to do with the location – people in this area must be used to seeing patients from Shepherd making their first ventures out into “the real world.”
Back in the Blue Carpet tunnel, he now had that long slope to go up to get back into the Shepherd building. He did it with three rests, far fewer than the first times he’d attempted it. I told him we could come here every Sunday and test his progress by seeing how few rests he could do it in. “Great,” he said with mild sarcasm. I told him we didn’t have to, but he said, no, I was right, it would be a good test and give him some exercise at going up slopes.
Back in his room, it was time to put his feet up – he’s been having some problem regulating the volume of his ICs (too high sometimes, which is not good – review my bladder lecture ;-)), and this was a suggestion that had been made to us to try. Easier said than done. The man’s hamstrings are tighter than taut bowstrings, and it was a struggle for me to get his legs up on the chair. There was no hope of straightening them – his knees jutted up. So unintentionally this turned into a stretching exercise for his legs. After a half hour, I got his feet off the chair, and soon after that I left.
When I returned in the evening, we did the usual stuff. After stretching him, I positioned him, remembering to shove him far over to one side so I could climb in with him. We lay there and listened to one of his roommates snoring, another one on the speaker phone letting the whole ward know what was going on in his life (why would anyone think others would be interested in the details of their life? ;-)), and the other one talking to himself (this person is the newest one in the room, having been there about two weeks; at first I thought he was on the phone all the time, but Gary told me it was not that but that he talked to himself constantly – including all through the night).
“This is nice,” Gary said, meaning the snuggling, or as we term it, “hoodleing.” “Why didn’t we think of this before?” he continued. On account of his flap, I told him – we’d had to be so careful of his positioning. And before that I’d thought he was too delicate. We then said some mushy stuff, and then he asked what I wanted to do for our anniversary, which we should be home for. I said, “Spend all day in bed sleeping.” “Sounds good,” he replied.
And on that note, good night :-)
posted by Peg Daniels at 7:53 PM
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