The Stroke Files
Today marks eleven weeks since my father experienced a stroke. The ensuing days have been arduous, trying, and emotional for everyone involved. Each day seems to bring more questions than answers. Doctors and therapists refrain from offering a prognosis for the future. Because every brain responds differently, they simply don’t know “when” or “if” full recovery will occur. I’ve quickly learned that this is one of the most frustrating aspects to having a family member who has suffered a stroke. It’s a day-by-day battle that can stretch for weeks, months, and even years.
My Dad is still paralyzed on his right side and is unable to communicate anything more than a “yes” or “no.” The good news is that he started an intensive outpatient therapy program on June 4th. We’re hoping to see more progress with this program which is designed specifically for people with neurological injuries. He receives therapy five days a week from 9 am – 3 pm and has weekends off.
We had our first family meeting with the new doctors and therapists today. It was our opportunity to hear their initial assessments and ask questions about the therapy he’s receiving. The meeting consisted of a case manager, two physical therapists, occupational therapist, speech therapist, doctor, and psychotherapist. Each one went down the line and gave their report. I wasn’t surprised by any of the information they shared. Much of it we already knew — after all, we’ve been experiencing this for 11 weeks whereas they are just getting to know my Dad.
I did feel that they had a good grasp of his condition, understood his gaps, and had a plan to work on those areas. Was it the information I wanted? No, I want someone to say that they can heal him, and he’ll be fine in a few months. Of course, that never happens. Not that I expect it, but there’s always a small part of me that secretly hopes to hear it anyway. Only the future will tell the full story. I just have to be patient, allow God do His work, and let the therapists do the jobs they are trained to do.
There are some small improvements, though. I guess you would call them baby steps, but like the quote on my blog says, I’m thankful for the little things because one day I may look back and realize they were the big things. Each baby steps brings him closer to regaining what the stroke took away. And for today, that’s enough.
