Every chance I got, I went down to the nursing home in the city and spent time with Daddy. I loved being there for his physical therapy and watching his progress. His room is about 40 feet from the physical therapy room, when he can manage he walks himself or wheels himself down to the room. Otherwise, a therapist aide comes to help him. This room is set up with normal gym machines, and adaptive ones. The sitting down elliptical was Daddy's favorite. But our main concern was his balance, and if he could do the stairs. With every step, I held my breath, and every time he looked back at me I made sure my face looked so proud and happy for him, to encourage him and keep him positive. Keeping him positive is so hard, but so important.
When he makes it back to his bed, he is exhausted. His breathing is heavier now than it was after he'd work out when healthy. The nursing home staff doesn't know what rinsing is, so when he gets bathed, he gets soaped up and patted dry, never rinsed. His skin is flakey and itchy and miserable. After physical therapy he is sweaty on top of that. I just talk to him, distract him if I can. I want to take all of his hardships and put them on myself. I want my Daddy to be comfortable.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
No comments:
Post a Comment