Today is day 36...

It has been a crazy week. Milestones blurring by almost as rapidly as hours in the day. I wonder what to write. Mostly I wonder where to start. How to share all the exciting miracles, encouraging triumphs and hurdles we have faced in the last few days. Bottom line? Dad is doing amazing. Goals have been smashed. We have a long way to go, yet with the seemingly constant barrage from his “family of care” team, Dad has been keeping his spirits up and motivating along. Sure we have been dancing the recovery dance. 3 steps forward, 1 back, 2 to the side and back again. Dad has some days where the medications seem to be working on overdrive confusing and muddling his thoughts, while other days are much better. He is still in a fair amount of pain and trying to think through the narcotics is tough enough, much less focusing through a good rattle to the brain.

We had another eye specialist come in and look at Dad’s eyes. Right now he can only see very limitedly from his left eye. Is this an injury thing that will self correct? Is it some trauma that can be healed? Only time will tell, and Dad’s eye guys are putting a game plan together designed to restore as much sight in Dad’s eyes as possible.

Dad’s fine motor skills are clicking along. Buttoning a shirt is a snap, almost. While working on bringing a spoon to his mouth to eat soup, Dad stopped and thought for a few moments. Then smiled and picked up the bowl with both hands and slurped away. My kids would have been proud.

Dad had a therapy dog come and visit him as well. An unexpected and awesome treat for Dad. Nothing brings a smile to a face better than shakes and snuggles from our hairy 4 legged friends. Maybe one day Dad will have a therapy dog of his own.

Dad is increasing his standing time during his physical therapy. As well as his coordination and upper body strength by wheeling himself around the hospital wing. Imagine the concentrating grin on his face as he, very nearly blindly, follows the voice ahead of him down the path. Steer to your left, now straight, slow down a little you have a wall coming up. Dad asked if he had a special racing wheel chair, because he noticed the wheels had a slight camber to them. He seemed a little bummed to learn his chair was just a “normal” chair. It matters little though because soon Dad will be racing along.

Please continue to pray for Dad’s healing, especially for his sight. Also, please pray for us, his family, as we attempt to maintain some sense of normalcy for ourselves and the kids while trying to make the hour long trip over to see Dad everyday.

Thank you all so much for your constant prayers, please don’t forget to leave a comment so we know you’re there, sometimes I feel like I’m writing to update myself... emails and phone calls work too.

~With Integrity