Dad update 11/30

Not dad's physical therapist...

News flash! Dad is unhappy. And I think that's actually good. He wants to do more than the nurses and therapists allow him to -- he is standing and walking on his own -- with support nearby -- to brush his teeth and do the basic living types of activities. And he wants to walk more than they're letting him walk.  I think he is losing his sense of helplessness.

Now, he wants to go home. He gets mad and frustrated. He yells at the nurses, mom, and Les. I talk to him on the phone. It's hard to know how to respond. With sympathy? Fake cheerfulness? Nope. What, then?

Dad: "This is a prison."

Me: "If this were a prison, you'd have a better gym."

I opt for the Vince Lombardi approach (or what I imagine it to be).  Therapy is boot camp, or spring training, I tell him, and he needs to use that anger and frustration as motivation to make himself stronger.

I don't know if it is realistic to think he will go home -- but I can't rule it out, especially with the possibility of home care dangling in front of us. It's all expensive, and it depends on how independent he can become.

The main considerations are: He can't fall again. Mom can't participate much in his care. He will almost certainly try to do things he should not try to do.

Time will tell.