Driving Mister Rick

I never had children but today made me think that what I did and felt was what parents feel like when they are teaching their 15/16 yr old to drive. 

Rick was driving today. I pulled over and let him have a go at it. 

It made me so nervous. I was holding my breath. 

I felt he was hugging the yellow line. I'd tell him and he'd move over.

It was so tough for me. We will do more again tomorrow. He wants his freedom back and I don't blame him. 

I told him, "You know when you wish to drive to go to Home Depot or something I'm going to want to go with you for a while, don't you?  

He laughed and said, "Oh I know!"

I will be a wreck when he goes out on his own.  

At least he is understanding of how I'm feeling.

I realized that not only does the stroke survivor have PTSD so does the occupant of his car who was with him on that awful day.

Rick has made HUGE strides in the last month. Huge. 

He looks like his old self. It like turned on a dime. I wrote a few weeks ago and he's advanced so much since even then. 

His speech is off a bit and he talks out of one side of his mouth it looks like. Other than that you would never know he had a stroke.  

There are invisible issues that we both know but most would never know. 

He is out in the workshop again. That is slow going but he's doing it.

The only thing that really bothers him now is his cognitive issues. 

While his left leg is a bit wonky it's not a big deal. 

And the Stroke Fatigue is minimal now. 

So he is not napping all day, which is good and bad for Margaret. LOL. 

He was reading this manual the other morning and he got so frustrated he threw it. I saw it fly across the room and asked what the hell that was about.

He said he was frustrated and needed to do that, sorry.

I said it was A-OK since it was just a manual, I get it, his frustration that is.

He said he imagines this is what ADD is like. So he calls himself Cantaloupe Boy. He is a smart man and he knows what he could do easily and it just frustrates him so much.  I get it.  But at least now he makes jokes and he no longer gets angry. Whew. He is far more mellow since the stroke and I don't mind that at all.  

Seriously, I am so proud of how hard he has worked and how far he has gotten. A friend who lives nearby, a blogger friend, had a more minor stroke than Rick and she's a good many years younger and not doing so well.

Like Rick she is stubborn. She refused to go to rehab and stay in a hospital. They come to her home. I would guess that she too is not self-motivated like Rick, so she isn't getting in all the time she needs to do therapies. 

When I asked why she didn't go to Rehab she said there was no way she was going to stay in a hospital for 2-4 weeks. Now it could have been money and she didn't wish to share that. Boy, I get that for certain! But I wish she could have gone.

Rick didn't know he had a choice to not go. I didn't tell him. When the case manager and I talked she gave me options. She told me what my insurance would pay etc. We had the option to do at-home therapy but I know Rick well enough to know that would never get him moving. And it wouldn't be every day. He is not self motivated and he will admit that to you. So when she or he wasn't there to do these exercises with him he wouldn't on his own. If I tried to make him it would make him angry at that time at me.

I chose the rehab in the hospital where he was currently residing. 

It was just another arm of the hospital. This way the same doctors etc. 

No one would have to learn how Rick got here, or what he needed, they already knew. 

I never discussed this with Rick, we all just told him that was just the next step in his recovery until now...until the other night.

That rehab hospital is what got Rick where he is. They got him up early and he began therapies at 7:30am. He had speech, PT and OT. 

Every day he had all 3 for never less than an hour each. Usually more. 

They made him do all sorts of things that he would moan and complain about. But even he knows that is what helped him. 

He has said it himself many times.

She is so far behind where Rick is. Someone comes to her home and they don't have the equipment to bring to your home, not all of it, so it's like it's half of what she needs if that much.

The other night as we sat out on the patio like the pre-stroke days we discussed all this. 

We talked about his time in the hospital. He was in Neuro ICU then ICU then a hospital room and then the rehab hospital. 

He told me about what he heard, saw, and felt when he couldn't communicate with anyone. How disappointed he was when I didn't arrive by 8am. Or how his eyes could be closed but when I walked in he 'felt' what he called my happy energy and he would open his eyes because he was so excited I arrived.  I, of course, did not know any of this. 

He never said a word. 

I was there every day between 7:30a and 8am and if I was late he said he would be bummed out. I'm glad I did that and also glad in a way I didn't know that is how he felt. When his crazy sister was here she didn't seem to understand why I felt the need to be there so early. I told her the doctor was there at that time and I would like to talk to him and discuss changes etc. She was busy doing her hair and I would be flipping out inside. Now to hear him tell me he liked me being there so early made me feel good and that I was doing the right thing for him. 

Rick shared with me that one day in the rehab hospital he was so wiped out by 90 minutes of physical therapy and then 60 minutes of occupational therapy and when they brought him to his room he began to dose off. His speech therapist came in and saw him asleep (but he wasn't asleep yet but his eyes were closed) and he heard her say to the nurse, "Ah just let him sleep I see he's been to PT so he is probably very tired" and they left. 

He said that he chuckled to himself and was happy he fooled them and then napped for hours. The little shit. That made me laugh. 

I saw some of those grueling PT sessions, like pulling a big weight up an inclined walkway by a strap tied around his waist. Doing that walk when he could barely walk without it was intense. 

I watched that day and when he stopped mid-way, Nunzio asked, "Why are you stopping Rick?"

Rick replied, "Because I had a stroke Nunzio"  Nunzio was a hoot and he laughed and said, "I don't care, mister, move it "  He was a real taskmaster with a heart of gold. Rick loved the guy but he didn't make it easy for Rick. 

When I told Rick on this evening on the patio that he had a choice to go home, but I made him go to the rehab hospital and explained why. 

He actually laughed and said you are so right, I wouldn't have pushed through the pain if there wasn't someone pushing me. He told me that I made the correct choice. He thanked me. Even though I felt it was the best choice for him I was glad to hear he thought so too. 

There were days I told him that I knew he wanted to sleep in rehab but he would not sleep if I was there. He always wanted me by his bed and he'd hold my hand and he'd talk or we'd watch TV. But I'd see him doing head bobs and I'd think I should go or he won't sleep so I would tell him I had to leave. He laughed when I shared this. He told me I was right, I didn't want to sleep if you were there and I didn't want you to leave. I wanted you to sleep there too.  

Rick is really opening up about his view of this whole damn experience. 

It's been good for us both. Therapy of sorts. Now that he is no longer going to rehab he goes to the gym.  But now his shoulder is so painful we need to get that fixed and then he'll be almost as good as new. After the gym on Tuesday, his shoulder hurt even more and he said he was going to wait until it was better.  He gets a shot in his shoulder Tuesday of next week. 

I can't wait for that for him. I assume a cortisone shot since the pain is all enormous inflammation. 

All his doctors told me at the very beginning was that he'd be 90% to 100% at 1 year. I never believed them seeing him as he was then.

Now neither of us thinks 100% is realistic but you know what, 90% is pretty damn good and we'll take it.

Now if only I could get over this driving stuff. 

But he doesn't want me to be Driving Miss Daisy as he says, so I must let go.

Mentally I very much understand his need for his freedom. 

Physically I long for a day when I'm not in the damn car.

BUT, It's not easy...at least for me. And it's all about me, right?