get my husband up and walking eventually

about his therapists and caregivers. We got on the subject because I was telling him we are on our own this weekend. He brought up “Raymond, the guy who sees us out there (wave in general direction of the pool) every six to eight days.” I was amazed that he remembered pool therapy, and even though the therapist’s name is not Raymond, it does start with an R. His memory really is starting to kick in.

Then I mentioned N, his speech therapist. “I like her a lot,” he said.

I said, “I do too. You know, she’s the reason you are communicating so much better lately.”

Here’s what totally blew me away:

He grabbed my hand and held it over his other hand, moving his fingers against my palm while looking at me fake-earnestly. It took me a minute, then I got it. “Helen Keller!” I said, and he grinned.

He was mimicking Helen Keller’s great communication breakthrough, in which she spells w-a-t-e-r into Anne Sullivan’s hand. What a smart, funny, wonderful man my hubby is.

that Nick has lost his neurologist, who died of heart problems earlier this week.

Nick’s physical therapist told us that he had heard about it from a reliable source, and we confirmed it in the newspaper’s obituaries. Apparently he was on vacation, had some problems, and a blockage was diagnosed and corrected, but problems resurfaced, and he never left the hospital.

I am very sad about this. He was a good doctor, a good guy, and a “Nick believer.”

and not letting it out on the page, but here goes:

Nick had his first pool therapy last Thursday. Even though his legs are not strong enough for him to push them down into the water, a ten-pound weight on each leg got the legs fully under him.

In the water, he has full range of motion in his legs. With weights on his legs and a noodle under his arms to hold him upright, he can kick them up in the back, out to the side, and he can pull himself across the bottom of the pool with them (not exactly in a standing position yet). He can do squats. The only motion he does not have is up and down foot motion. The therapist says that could return.

The therapist says he needs something to hold onto besides the side of the pool, and our friends P and B, who built the pool lift, are on it already.

Eventually, we may need parallel bars for him to walk between in the pool.

The biggest barrier is muscle strength. His arm strength is good, but his leg muscles, especially the thigh muscles, have atrophied from lack of use over the last 3.5 years.

But. If he can build up strength, however gradually, and if he can work at this enough, he has all the nerve connections, all the range of movement he needs, to walk again.

Pool season is only 5 full months, but our dear friends P & B are designing a roof-like thingy for the pool with solar panels to heat it year-round.

One day, I just may be able to mark this goal as done. It may be a while, but all Nick and I have is time.

I printed some photos of Nick interacting with people and wrote a little bit about how Nick’s social interactions were improving and how he displayed a dazzling vocabulary but forgot simple words.

I made a list of things I thought Nick needed, including speech therapy.

The doc and nurse saw all this, nicely presented in a blue folder, before they saw Nick. I did this on the previous visit, and it worked quite well. The pictures are more convincing than my telling the doc would be, and presenting it all in advance means that the doc’s focus can be on Nick during the visit and that Nick won’t feel I am speaking for him, though of course I am, on paper.

We got everything I asked for, with a bonus of physical therapy. The doc suggested that we ask for a therapist to work with Nick in the pool to strengthen his legs and to maybe get them under him for some gait training.

I told the doc that Nick had not been, so far, strong enough to move his legs down underneath him in the water. The doc said it could be irreversible damage or it could be muscle weakness that could be overcome. After three years of mostly lying down and sometimes sitting, whose muscles would not be wea? Yay for positive possibilities! And yay for a doc who, after two years of pessimism, has changed his thinking on Nick during the last two visits!

We went to the neurologist yesterday for Nick’s routine checkup.

I always keep them updated on what Nick is doing, so with the paperwork I turned in, I included pics of Nick entering the pool via the lift and of Nick in the pool.

The doc walked in and said “Hello, Nick.” Nick shook his hand and said, “Hello Dr. S,” even though no one had reminded him that this was Dr. S. since earlier when we discussed where we were going.

A big smile spread across the doc’s face. He and the nurse talked to Nick about the pool.

How many days a week do you like to go in the pool?

If I had my choice? Um, 80.

Where do you swim?

I just go out my back door, and there it is.

Oh, you have a pool at home?

Yes.

Dr. S. checked out Nick’s vision, reflexes, movement, and strength, and then he said how pleased he was by Nick’s progress, how he was proud of both of us, and how, whatever we were doing, we should bottle it and sell it. This from a doc who has heretofore walked the line between, let us say, “cautiously encouraging” and “carefully unencouraging.”

“You know, Nick,” he said, “if you could just lose some of that weight, I think we could get you standing.”

“Doc,” Nick said, “that’s a battle I have fought for a long time. I’d love to lose weight.”

I said, “Nick, I could stand to lose a few pounds, too, so . . .”

Nick looked at me as if it had never occurred to him that I should lose weight, and said, “Really?” It was perfect, not overdone at all, the response of the perfect husband.

I made a dismissive gesture. “Silly.”

Dr. S laughed and told Nick, “That was exactly the right response, by the way.”

Nick and I agreed to work on the weight issue together, the doc wrote a prescription for speech/cognitive therapy, saying Nick was much more fluent now and might benefit.

As we left, the doc squeezed my shoulder in a congratulatory gesture, and said, “I am fascinated by this. People just do not show this much improvement this long after a stroke.” (It’s been 2 years and 10 months.)

So. Finally, finally. Someone with some medical cred who believes that it will be possible to get Nick on his feet again. Yay, yay!

We tried it out with Nick in it. I put him in the water, took him out, made sure that I could work every aspect of the lift safely and well while P. watched.

It was afternoonish, and Nick was too tired to stay in the water, so we postponed the fun part until today.

Today, it was just us, no caregivers, so we started out in a leisurely way with breakfast, meds, and teeth-brushing. Around 11:00, we started getting ready for the pool.

By noon or earlier (I did not look at the clock), we were in the pool. We had so much fun. Nick had on his life vest, but he still felt better holding on to something (it has been 3 years since he has been in the water). I gave him a couple of noodles and towed him around the pool. Before I knew it, he was moving his legs and arms and (even though he was in an awkward position on his back with the life vest on) propelling himself around the pool. We threw beach balls, and he still had a death grip on the noodles but he batted the ball back to me. We laughed, we had fun, and when I asked him if he was tired . . .

“A little bit.”

“Do you want to go in?”

“No, I want to stay here.”

I had to get sunscreen—I had applied it before we went out, but had not thought of his knees, which floated above the water. They were looking a bit red.

He was so happy in that water, and I finally had to point out that he had goosebumps and that we could come back tomorrow before he’d agree to go in. He was totally exhausted but very happy after about two hours in the pool.

This is why I decided to teach just one night class this summer: so I could go in the pool with Nick. Totally worth it? Yes!

One Hoyer lift hydraulic pump: $275-ish
Salvaged materials: $0
Chains and s-hooks from Lowe’s, foam insulation: Still trying to pry the amount out of P. so we can pay him.
Friends’ labor: $0
Life vest: $39
Noodles: $3.99 each
Sunscreen: $5

Being back in the pool with my dear hubby . . . PRICELESS!

The lift base is cemented into the concrete skirt beside the pool. The other pieces are on the patio, waiting for P and B to assemble them onto the lift.

They plan to come out today to do that, and to do a test run of the lift with someone other than Nick.

If that person is still intact after the test run, we will try it with Nick in a life vest.

If all goes well, the lift will be something I can operate by myself to get Nick into the pool, and he and I will be able to go in every day and exercise.

Cross fingers, everyone! I’ll let you know how it goes.

ever since his brain aneurysm, my hubby has spoken again and again about my mother being in the house—that he saw her or talked to her. She died in 2000, but she loved him very much and he loved her.

This morning, I gave Nick some OJ and went to feed the cats. When I came back, he said “Your mother was just here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, she just walked through with a candle.”

“Tell me about it.”

“She walked in through that door (the left door of our sunroom, which has two doors leading into it from the living room). She touched me upside the head with the wand (the wand formerly known as a candle, I guess) she was holding. Then she left through that door (indicating the right door).”

“Where on your head?”

“Here.” (Indicating the side of his head where the surgery was done)

“You know my mother is dead, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know, Nick, in some way, she has been with you ever since your brain aneurysm. I know she loved you and would want to help you heal if she could. So (looking at where she would be standing if she were there) ‘Thanks, Mother.’”

“Thanks, Mom.”

And that’s the best explanation I have. Maybe Nick, knowing that my mother loved him, is imagining that she is there. I do not believe in the supernatural. I can’t really think that my mother’s ghost is walking through the house with candles or wands. But I know that she would if she could. So I said “thanks” . . . just in case.

is good enough!

As long as he continues to make progress, I am happy.

Everyone has noticed. He is starting to initiate more. He is becoming his old, bossy, demanding self. Gotta love it!

he gets stronger in both his upper and lower body. He can stand in the standing lift for an hour on a good day, and though it supports him, he is still on his feet. He can tighten his knees so that he is almost supporting his whole weight.

It’s a long way from that to walking, but our friend P and his friend B are thinking of a solution. They want to imbed a mechanism in the concrete by the pool that will let Nick down into the water. They have it all worked out how it can lift him from the wheelchair out over the water in his sling, much like a Hoyer lift does on land, but this will have to rotate. They plan a remote control and a DC outlet to minimize the risk from water. (These are very smart and skilled guys.)

Once in the water (with me) he can move his legs freely because his weight will not be on them. I envision starting with kicks and moving to steps across the shallow end of the pool. I talked to him about it today and he was very eager. He also agreed to wear a life vest (though he was a skilled swimmer before the stroke).

This is truly a wonderful solution. Cross fingers and toes for us that it works out!