Tuesday, August 25, 2009

8/25 Hope and a Future

Every morning I wake up to the new terms of our new life, get up and get to it. Concerns, unknowns and possible solutions on how to navigate the finances accompany me almost constantly as Chuck and I walk out of this coma and start seeing what this TBI stuff's going to be about.

Studies show that better insurance equals better outcomes for TBI. I found out today that once Chuck leaves rehab, insurance does not view "cognitive therapy" as their responsibility, only the physical therapy. There will be no outpatient coverage for speech therapy. This simply means to me that we will have to move heaven and earth to make sure he continues to get speech therapy once we've left rehab, whether it's covered or not, period.

I happened on this verse today and it settled my heart for the day:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jer. 29:11

When I get disheartened, I realize I need to adjust my thinking to where the love is, where the hope is.

Chuck had a very poor night of sleep last night (as did I in the bed next to him), and so was a bit groggy and non-responsive in therapy today. We met his team today: rehab physician, medical doctor, respiratory therapist, speech therapist, physical therapist, occupational therapist. That trach is gonna be OUTTA HERE this week. Found out that trach wounds heal up in a week! His swallowing is considered to be a bit slow, but they will be moving forward on introducing him to solid foods as a next step, a bit down the road.

The net bed was a godsend last night. He is 100% safe in there and they keep him safely trussed up in the wheelchair also. No more daily danger as a way of life. (What a nightmare that was. )

Chuck is in a deep deep sleep now (medication adjustment), so we'll hope for more mental sharpness tomorrow. He did stick his tongue out from side to side today after shaking his head that he didn't think he could do it and answered a number of simple questions for his speech therapist. He is not as sharp on the verbal responses as he was a week ago, so I'm keeping a hawk's eye on the medication situation.

I used to call Mandela "Angel Boy" and now I call Chuck "Angel Man." There's a sweetness to his spirit that draws me (and everybody else) to him. We have shared some genuinely lovely moments together in these weeks. We have a marriage.

Speech Therapist: Who is this sitting near you?
Chuck: Rrr Rrr
ST: Aww Burr nuh
C: Auburn!
ST: Is she your friend?
C: No
ST: Is she your neighbor?
C: No
ST: Is she your co-worker?
C: No
ST: She is your..... She is your......
C: Err Reh Thing
ST: Your everything?
C: Yes
ST: And your....
C: My
ST: My....
C: My wah
ST: Say Wife!
C: My wife!

We watched a little bit of Family Guy tonight and Chuck laughed spontaneously at a couple things. At two in the morning last night when he was restless and wakeful I said to Chuck's turned back. "Knock knock." Long pause in the darkness. (Chuck gruffly) "Who's there?" Another pause. I couldn't think of a punch line. Then we both laughed.

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