14, no 10, no 7 Days at Brotman

Dad’s been moved to a rehab facility very close to me. They don’t have wireless web here, so I can’t update the blog as often. And once I leave the hospital, I stay so busy, that I don’t have much time to write. But I’m here now writing and I can upload this later (neer mind it took me a week toupload this). This last week has been phenomenal progress in dad’s recovery. He can get in/out of bed by himself, go to the bathroom, and walks almost as well as before the stroke. Of course, that’s considering he still has those mysterious prickly and tingly feelings in his legs. The bone marrow biopsy they did hasn’t yielded any results, yet (week later and nothing yet). They are still researching that. In the meantime, he will continue with physical therapy, occupational therapy (how to shave, and bath and eat) and speech therapy. His speech is a little slow, but he can articulate pretty good. Even that’s mostly due to his pain medicine.

He can’t wait to get home, but it’s still unclear how much attendance or nurse care he needs. I’ve started to make arrangements for him and me to move into an apartment together. But all that still depends on his needs. I continue to ask our friends to pray. If it’s God’s will, we hope that whatever it is that’s causing my father so much pain and discomfort will rear its dirty little head. And if it’s not God’s will, we pray for the strength to be able to endure these tests.

During this last week, dad asked me to buy him a tracksuit like the ones I wear. He asked how much it would be. Knowing how considerate my dad is when it comes to money, I told him I could get one from Ross for cheap. It seems I assumed wrong. He replied, “Get a good one, Ross might not have any good ones.” Before I finished my visit dad reminded me, “Get a good name brand, Reebok, Nike.” The next day he called me at work twice. Once to make sure I’m gonna buy that track suit. And again to request a bright green or blue color. When I took the track suit to him, I asked why he wanted it so bad. He said, “I like to look good. You know, dress nice for my visitors.”

The sexy nurse stories are arousing some controversy. People ask me, “Did he really say that?” I respond with some stories not fit for publishing. Stories so unbelievable, it would only create more questions than answers. They realize how believable the published stories are.

I have been promising the “flirting with the ER nurse” story. Here it goes.

Firstly, you need to put yourselves in the backdrop of that days events. Dad had suffered what was a stroke, and though they were pretty sure of that, they were not sure of what kind of stroke. Was there bleeding in the brain? (Which would likely mean death) Was it a beginning of a major blood clot and multiple strokes? Was it reversible or treatable? (First 3 hour window to provide clot busters was almost past) He was rushed into MRI and brought back into the ER as we waited for the doctor to review the results and make a decision that would alter his life. Of course, I hadn’t been filled in on all this just yet. I was just let in to see him just as they rolled him back from MRI. The first contact I have with him as I walk into the ER room, I can see his face is half paralyzed. The paralysis was so severe that even his eye was not moving. I approach from his right side, and on his left side is a young Persian nurse. She was part of the crew that took him to MRI and back. She was just finishing tucking him in and leaving. I asked dad how he was feeling, and told him to not worry or be scared (I was really worried he might be frightened and/or anxious) he turns his face slowly to the right and replies that he’s ok. I look at the nurse to get a gauge of how worried she might be. Before I ask a question or make a comment, she says “Your father is very cute.” Here she is, 26, 28, brunette, olive skin, well groomed eye brows, gleaming smile. I wouldn’t have noticed all this had it not been for dad. As she’s saying how adorable and nice he is, dad turns his head from the right all the way to the left (slowly and intently). Just then the nurse and I look down at him. He makes eye contact with her with the good eye, he puts forth what little energy he has into puckering up his lips with his half crooked lips, winks with his good eye, sends her a kiss. Now if you ask him, he’ll say he was trying to see how much movement he had in his face, and the wink was actually a slow motion blink. I have my opinion, you can have yours. I’ll never know what happened in the MRI room that prompted this young lady to say such wonderful things about him. But knowing my dad, he was just being his smoothe and gentle self.

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Today dad was discharged from Brotman's rehab center. They first said 2 weeks, then 10 days, and here we are, 7 days into rehab and they want to discharge him. He does need a full time attendant, so Saghi is moving him to a place she used to work at. It's in Corona, which is kinda far. But she knows the staff, and she's close and can care for him. I never used to visit my dad when he was 5 miles away. Now he's 70 miles away, and after seeing him everyday for 2 weeks, it kills me that I can't see him tonight.

I miss him.

I pray and I ask you all to keep praying, that his discomfort and pain don't overwhelm his spirit. I wholeheartedly accept God’s Will in this journey. Every part of this test, EVERY part of it, is welcomed as part of God’s Will. I just pray for the strength to endure. For me, for dad, my sisters, brother, and all those connected to us. My friends, who have to put up with me during this time, my co-workers, who recognize my distractions, and exercise patience with me despite the extra stress it gives them, they all deserve prayers just as much as dad. So please picture the whole mess of us, at His mercy, and pray.