Notes from Rehab

I've been here about 3.5 days. I get up in the morning, do a little work, pack up my computer, head down to RIC, talk to her, help her through therapy, do some more work, talk to her, help her through therapy and so on. Dad usually shows up in the afternoon and immediately she likes to tell everyone that "the cleaner" is here. Hey, if he's going to have a reputation, I don't think being notorious for his cleaning skills is a bad one.

Some of her days start as early as 8am. There's a lot of OT and PT throughout the day. Both of which she says she's "sworn off" because they hurt too much, but then in usual mom fashion, after she's done giving everyone attitude she does it anyway. She's just making sure they know who's boss. I'm pretty sure it's clear.

Therapy wears her out completely and she gets frustrated with herself. "I keep telling my leg to move and it just doesn't do it." Cue some tears...from both of us. Then cue a small pep talk - starting with sincerity and ending with laughter. Then cue a steely reserve, Pam-level determination, and a second try. To be honest, the left leg does "move", but it's only a little right now. Essentially, you can see that her brain is sending the message to it. As you all know though, our family doesn't do "patience" so she would like to be running a marathon, like NOW. However, it's going to take a bit more time than 3 days. I've got pep talk storage.

Then her days end around 3:30 or 4. The three of us hang out, have dinner, she threatens to bite anyone who gets in the way of her cake...you know, usual family time.

I tried to sneak an Apple TV in yesterday so that she could see the slideshow on her TV. Dad stood on a chair and hooked it up while I watched for invaders. Unfortunately they must have prepared for such rebellious behavior because they have disabled the TV from changing inputs. "I would've gotten away with it, if it weren't for you meddling kids!" (Scooby Doo reference anyone?)