Saturday Afternoon - The Machine

Ryan checking in for blogging duties. As Alison said I got to the hospital this morning just after 11 and just in time for Dad's second physical therapy session of the day. Collin had to rouse Dad and asked if Dad was ready for another session. He waited a little while for an answer and then somewhat unconvincingly but with a small grin Collin said, "There we go, I saw a nod." Alison and I laughed and I said, "Sure, but which way was the nod?"

Undeterred, Collin started to help Dad out of bed and into a wheelchair. He explained that if Dad felt up to it he was going to try to get him to stand up in an apparatus called the Standing Frame. Hearing that triggered in my mind a memory of The Machine in the movie The Princess Bride. I mentioned it do Dad and the three of us chuckled about it as we took the elevator down to the gym.

It was great to see Dad standing. The Machine...err, Standing Frame...is a chair with a back rest, feet holds, and then a cushion that locks Dad's knees and shins into place so his legs can lean forward without his knees buckling. Once in position a little hydraulic pump raises the chair up slowly until Dad is standing up. I pulled back on Dad's shoulders as he was raised up but once standing I let go and he maintained his posture with only a few reminders to raise his chin. He stood for 5 minutes, conquering the Standing Frame in only his 2nd day of rehab. Another therapist that helped transfer Dad back to his wheelchair said, "This is only Day 2? Your therapist (Collin) is crazy, and you are doing really well."

Back in Dad's room physical therapy went on for about 5 more minutes with leg exercises while in a chair. Collin asked Dad to raise his left leg up while keeping the knee bent and to do it 10 times. He was counting out loud, but when he hit the count of 7 Dad started counting in a quiet whisper as well and said, "10". Totally unexpected and absolutely hilarious. So the punishment was to go to 20 instead of 10 which Dad did fairly easily and counted most of the way. Then he did 20 reps of the same leg lift on the right let, which he lifted almost as high as he had the left. The next task was to move his legs in together and then back out, 20 times. Dad hadn't been able to do either of those exercises while I was with him yesterday. It is good to see some mobility in the right leg even in these early stages of rehab.

Occupational therapy started with practice opening and closing medicine bottles and twisting open the top of a bottle of baby powder. Dad could secure the bottle in his right hand and then performed the tasks pretty easily with his left. While he was working, Chelsie noticed some movements in Dad's right arm. "He wasn't doing that yesterday," she said. She worked with his right arm for a few minutes, pushing and pulling on it to see if Dad could offer the opposite force against her arm, and then asking him to bend at the elbow and touch his lips with his fingers. Dad would use his left arm as a guide, apparently trying to visualize what his right arm should be doing. Not a lot of voluntary movement out of the right arm yet, but definitively little moments of muscle triggers, sensation, response.

Chelsie next used the game Jenga to work with Dad on spatial awareness, fine motor skills, and to measure his level of understanding and following instructions. She would arrange the pieces in a pattern and ask him to distinguish and point to certain ones, and then gave Dad four step instructions that he had to listen to and then execute. Dad's sense of humor reared its head again this time around when he had a piece in his hand and was told to place it in a certain place 3-4 times. Finally he set the piece on his lap, under the tray they were using, and left it there. Chelsie took the hint and closed the therapy session for the day.

One final thought...since this is my first entry on the blog I'll say thank you to everyone, and particularly at this time for your kind words towards my siblings that have been so selfless and caring as they've watched over Dad. But much of the thanks should go to the wonderful people that have joined our family through marriage that have made ample sacrifices to allow Dad's kids to spend so much time with him this past week. As has been mentioned many times, being in the hospital really is the easy part. It is being away and worrying that is the most difficult, so a special thanks to family and friends that have helped with our kids and other responsibilities to free up our time.