Last but not least?

Sorry. Yes, I took a little break.

There really isn't too much to say about the past couple of months. It's been really bad, Dad's pretty much the same, I'm burned out, and Mom's exhausted. There's your update.

But seeing as I seriously owe you, I thought I'd at least cap off 2010 with one more and then make some sort of resolution to update on a more regular basis...that'll probably last like 2 weeks or so...

Two words I feel embody the spirit of this holiday season for my mom and myself would be "shitty" and "sad." And I mean that in all sincerity, and hopefully without offense to you. There's this giant emptiness that somehow always hurts, even though Dad is actually still with us (which, shhhh I'm not supposed to say this, actually makes it harder). Sometimes I think if my dad had been a little more of a wallflower, less dynamic, not quite such a big personality, I wouldn't miss him so much...but then again, I would never wish that. I'm heart broken. You would think after 7 months it would start hurting less, but it doesn't. And this is why the holidays were shitty and sad for me.

However, we have been absolutely overwhelmed by kindness and generosity this holiday season as well, much of it very surprising and a true testiment to my dad's character. I'm bitter, and sarcastic...but I do believe in the strength of the human spirit, and (yes, Nana) the possibility of miracles.

And so with that, I'll just bid a big fat ADIOS to 2010 with my two middle fingers flying high and welcome this new year with arms wide open.

P.S. Next time I write, I promise to actually update you on details of Dad's condition. Cheers.

My poor little lab partner!

Brace yourselves. Just want to be upfront, it has NOT been a pretty couple of weeks. But don't worry, I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel (this particular one, anyways)...and it's in the form of Rod Stewart singing the classics on DWTS and 10mg of diazapam. Mmmmm...

I just want you all to know that I, as a person, have changed drastically. And unfortunately no, not in the way that could get me on Oprah. Although, I guess some would call it an "ah-ha moment" as I stood outside my chemistry lab this afternoon, safety goggles on forehead, screaming and crying (a la Shirley Maclaine in Terms of Endearment) at the home health nurse on the phone that she "better find his goddamn vein and start the f*ing antibiotics...LIKE NOW!! I AM LOSING MY MIND!!" I may not be too cute anymore, but I'm certainly still a head turner.

So why the IV antibiotics? Well. Let. Me. Tell. You. UGH. I would estimate that for the past 3 weeks, Dad has been markedly declining. Yes, I said it, he's been getting worse (like I said, Little Miss Sunshine is long gone). His muscles were so tight I could barely dress him. He started the profuse sweating thing again. He never slept. He was grinding his teeth constantly. He certainly hasn't been talking or mouthing words. Needless to say he's been miserable. So last weekend, the kicker: he started running a fever. I took him to the ER. The triage nurse was so nice to me I actually started crying (and resented her for it?) and then naturally...after waiting three hours...there's nothing wrong with him. Must be some neurological thing. "That'll be a $150 co-pay. Thank you for your business, Goodbye!"

I mean, when you're sick, the last thing you want to hear is that there's nothing you can do but "wait it out." I just wanted him to feel better! I just want to know he's not in acute pain. He can't tell me it hurts, but his body is telling us something is wrong. And sometimes it seems like a doctor will just glance through his file, see that his prognosis is like, nada, and write it off as though it's a waste of time to do anything. Believe me, I get it. But we have to try something, right? Right?? Is that so much to freaking ask? See...getting all worked up.

Cut to precisely one week later. Damn culture takes too long to grow, if you ask me. Raging Pseudomonas urinary tract infection. Now, if you've never had a UTI, count your blessings. So painful. And he's probably had it for a good 2 weeks. So although I cringe to think of how much pain he was in (and couldn't say anything!), and after much struggle, he is now on IV antibiotics here at home. I couldn't get an appointment to get a PICC line put in until tomorrow morning (almost 48 hours after the diagnosis! Umm...kidney infection? Bateremia? Sepsis? No, no, not a concern.) But I talked the home health nurse into coming out and putting in a temporary IV this afternoon to get him started. Now, it may be the addition of diazapam to his nightly routine as well, but he's already doing better. No more sweating, no fever, no teeth-grinding...just more peace. And oddly enough, more alert.

Maybe I'm totally irrational and crazy, and this past couple days is just how the system works and I better get used to it. I don't know, I've never done this before. But like I said, I think there's a light at the end of this tunnel. My guess would be this is first of many UTI's in his future but the lesson is to really focus attention on the ways his body can tell us when he's sick. I hate lessons.

Good news is he's already giving me kisses on the cheek again and I can hear him snoring from out here...music to my ears. So worth it.

*Thanks for all the wonderful emails! Keep 'em coming! Sorry if I didn't get a chance to email you back, but I will eventually and rest assured, I read your note to him...probably multiple times.

Finally a little sunshine!

Well, let's start by talking about the mood around here lately: ugh. It's just been so gloomy outside (umm, hello, I thought this was southern California, not Seattle). So for those of you who haven't been out here these past two weeks, take it from me, it's been downright gross. And as my luck would have it, we have so far been experiencing one of the two extremes of this fall's weather (a balmy 110 degrees OR 60 degrees and pouring rain) at the exact moment I have to get Dad loaded up in the van and over to therapy. Which means by the time we arrive I am either a) red-faced, sweaty and swearing under my breath, or b) soaking wet, frizzed out and swearing under my breath. Oh who am I kidding...I swear out loud. Seriously. And I'll be honest, as of late I've upgraded to the F word...that's right, mouth like a sailor on this one here.

But the important thing is that Dad always gets to therapy on time and right to work. Lately we've been putting him in a standing frame, which helps him with balance and gets him to bear weight through his legs again. His ankles are extremely tight (the Achilles tendon shortens really easily when someone is off their legs for an extended period of time, imagine pointing your toes), but the standing frame will help stretch them out. Working in the standing frame has also started changing his tone, which is good in some ways, bad in others. Now instead of one leg bent, one straight, they are both very straight. He's also been straightening out his torso, which makes it difficult for him to sit in his wheelchair for longer periods of time. After about an hour he begins straightening his legs and torso and sort of slides out (best analogy would be an unhappy toddler sliding out of his highchair). It's not purposeful, we think as he gets tired, the spastic tone kind of takes over. As frustrating as it is for us, it must be infinitely more frustrating for him. It's like over time he's just getting wound tighter and tighter.

Another source of frustration has been his arms and hands. At this point they are incredibly tight. To put it into perspective, it takes two arms and all of my body weight to straighten his arm at the elbow when he's at his tightest. It's become increasingly difficult to bathe and dress him and there are times I worry I'll dislocate his shoulder. That would be bad...

But the good news is that we have new braces for his elbows and wrists, and when we can get them on him, they seem to be helping. We also got to see this new physiatrist a little early, and he's doubled Dad's dose of muscle relaxer and started him on ambien at night. Honestly sometimes the only time Mom and I have peace of mind is when we've knocked him out with a huge dose of muscle relaxers, ambien and melatonin. I know that sounds bad but he sleeps so soundly. His arms relax down to his sides and sometimes he even snores. Seems almost normal. At least we know he's not in pain or uncomfortable. Makes it much easier to enjoy a nice glass of wine and DWTS (I assume no one reading this lives in a cave so you are familiar with the acronym). Yes, I watch that crap now. And Bristol should have been booted off last week. I was enraged.

As far as Mom and I go, we are doing the best we can. People like to ask what we are doing to take care of ourselves, and although each day the importance of that is more evident, what are we supposed to do? Short of pulling a "Thelma and Louise" in the minivan, I'm at a loss. As of late, the routine goes: tranquilize Dad, crack open a bottle of wine (red for me, white for Mom) and queue the bad TV. A solid sense of humor certainly helps! ;)

*A note for those of you who didn't receive an email:

Send Tom a letter! Mom has started something of a letter writing campaign to Dad. We've noticed that when we read letters and cards to him he pays close attention and seems to really enjoy it. So if you're able, send us a letter that we can read to Dad to keep him updated on what's going on in your life. Even if you don't know him that well, it's always nice for him to hear about people other and me and Mom (we've gotten some cute ones from former students and friends; he really does enjoy it). And by letter I mean email of course. You can send it to me or Mom:

allisoncomstock@gmail.com

acomstock@roadrunner.com

Thanks!

But are you taking care of yourself??

Oh, hi there! Long time no see! You look fantastic, what's new??

Well, there's a lot new here! Okay, not that much really, but there is some stuff. I've been avoiding the blog because I've been in a crummy mood the past couple of weeks. I hurt my back putting Dad in the car, and was pretty shaken by that (I hope by this time you've deduced that if I were to really hurt my back, well, we'd be screwed). Luckily I was just a little sore for a week or so. But that put me in a funk and then there's the whole never leaving the house except for class twice a week. I'll put it is way: I knew this was going to be tough, but I didn't completely realize how it would take over my life. Okay, now that I've reached my whining quota for the day, let's get down to the update.

So we'll start out where we left off. I actually don't know where that was, but I'll take you back to three weeks ago when mom and I sucked it up and bought something she surely thought she would never own again...a minivan. Now, for those of you who don't remember, we Comstocks were once proud owners of a stunning green Ford Windstar affectionately named Phyllis. Once her days of carpooling and family camping trips (the only time Dad would dare drive Phyllis) were over, Mom traded her in for a sexy little Jeep Liberty (okay, not exactly sexy, but certainly a step up from the minivan). But here we find ourselves once again, with a minivan in the driveway...albeit a super tricked out minivan this time. She's no Phyllis, but she's made my life a lot easier so far. And I guess the royal blue is nice. I'm thinking she's a Barb. Thoughts?

Now that we have a way to transport Dad (that doesn't involve me having to physically pick him up and shove him into the front seat of the car), you may be wondering "Where do they take him?" Well, this leads me to another piece of news. Dad has now started twice weekly occupational therapy sessions at the Los Robles East Campus Rehab Center. It wasn't easy to get him in, and it's not nearly as much as he needs, but it's a start. Luckily we are working with some really talented occupational therapists (who are sneaking in a little physical therapy where they can), and we've discovered a lot of changes that need to be made. We're now working on getting a customized wheelchair, he's been fitted for new wrist and elbow splints, and Dad will be in the care of a new doctor starting in November, a physiatrist. I'm ashamed to admit, I'd never heard of this type of doctor, but I can assure you, he's real and seeing as he specializes in "physical medicine and rehab" he's exactly what Dad needs right now. I'll keep you updated.

Another thing that has put me off from writing is that I worry I'm giving you all the wrong impression of Dad's true condition. I know the picture of him in the car looks good (that's why I put it up here), but I'm not entirely sure it tells the whole story.The best way for me to describe exactly what he's like right now (without a positive spin) is to direct you to something called the Rancho Los Amigos Coma Scale:

http://www.waiting.com/rancholosamigos.html

Just so you know, Dad falls almost exactly at a 3 on this scale. He's definitely working his way up, but in order to be eligible for the acute in house rehab we're hoping for, he needs to be at a 4 or better yet, a 5. Clearly, this is going to take some major improvement. Mom and I are not naively optimistic, but there comes a point when planning for the worse just makes things worse. So we choose to stay in the moment, keep our expectations low and be pleasantly surprised by his progress.

Sorry if this update has been at all a downer; it's been a rough month, but life goes on. AND Halloween is coming up, so that's pretty exciting!! Don't worry, I won't dress Dad up or anything...okay, maybe just a hat ;)

Hopefully I'll have something really great to write about next time. Goodnight!

P.S. Just so you all know, these are the wristbands that Dad's triathalon team wore during the Nautica Triathalon they dedicated to him. If you want one let me know!

Thanks for the picture, Ahelee! See you Monday morning!

Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition!

Just in case you were wondering...optimism is exhausting.

And keeping that in mind, you'll have to forgive the sometimes lengthy breaks between my blogs. Unless of course you would like to hear what I have to say on a bad day...which, believe me, you do not. I mean, I couldn't very well follow an entry inspired by flatulence with some prolonged discourse on brain injury or the defects of our current healthcare system, blah blah blah.

So I waited until today when I could think of something good to write about. Which is that my dad always used to make fun of me for never remembering (or learning, for that matter) my left from my right, and did so again yesterday. Okay, so we'll start with the elephant in the room; no, I don't know my left from my right. I absolutely cannot tell you why. Maybe I was dropped on my head as a baby or just missed that day in preschool, but to this day no matter how I try to remember, it just doesn't stick. My dad always thought this was hilarious (so much for confidence building, eh?). I mean it's actually really hard! Everyone just assumes that everyone else knows left and right automatically. It's not fair! Take it from me, you look a lot dumber holding up your thumb and forefinger trying to figure it out...but I digress. So while we were doing a little stretching yesterday, I got, uhh, mixed up a few times. "Okay Dad, try really hard to bend this left leg...I mean right...oh no, yeah left. Okay, [expletive], whichever one I'm bending right now, bend it farther." He laughed every time I messed up! Even when I wasn't laughing...(more like rolling my eyes). ;)

So the latest development in his progress would be laughing, I guess. The last entry I wrote was the first time it happened, but it's happened quite a bit since. This past weekend my dad's brother George was in town (go Buckeyes!) and he saw it too. Sometimes Mom and I wonder if we imagine certain reactions and facial expressions, but there was no mistaking this, it was a big goofy smile and laugh. So the next question would be to ask how appropriate the laughing was. Sometimes it's spot on. One of us tells a joke or something funny comes up in conversation and he's laughing right along with us; other times, it's out of nowhere. Doctors warned us that as the brain heals, sometimes inappropriate or exaggerated emotions can surface, to which I say this: Either way, super. If it's inappropriate, great! His brain is healing. If it's appropriate, also great! He's still making fun of his daughter the same way he did before.

Oh and I have to leave you with this. Yesterday for the first time in well over 4 months...he sneezed. It was, in a word, profound.

I would also like to say CONGRATS! to Dad's Amgen Tri-teammates on their win in the corporate challenge this weekend in Malibu :) And thank you for dedicating your race to him, he was really looking forward to it this year and I'm sure would be very happy for your success!

Cheers!

Umm, excuse YOU!

Oh hello there...

Yes, it's been a while, but to tell you the truth I just didn't know what to write. Not to mention I've had a little "put on a happy face" burn-out happening lately. But as usual, just when I'm starting to get bummed, Dad has a way of pulling through and helping me see the bright side again. So here's what happened:

This afternoon, after I put him back in bed, I was taking his shoes off...and low and behold, he farted. Like, loud. Now, if you had asked me when I was 13, whether I thought there would ever come a time in life when farting was not funny, I would have undoubtedly responded, "Are you crazy? Farting will ALWAYS be funny." Like a universal truth, a law of nature. And yet, here I was, continuing on, removing his shoes and braces like nothing had happened. Amazingly, not funny. And then he started breathing all weird. So of course I immediately looked up to see if something was wrong. His mouth was all contorted, like was trying to hold something in, and breathing hard, like panting. At first I thought he was trying to cough, or maybe was having trouble breathing...and then I realized...he was laughing. It sounds really stupid, but it totally took me by surprise! In the past 4 months, I swear to you I have not heard anything like this from him. Smiles here and there, yes; but this time he was totally laughing. And then, he farted again and we both started cracking up. Absolutely the highlight of my week.

And so, here I am sharing this totally inappropriate story of his appropriate laughter with his esteemed colleagues (past and present), family, friends, friends of friends, and probably more, and more than likely if he were, shall we say, more conscious and reading this he would be absolutely livid with me. But there you have it, I thought it was relevant :)

In other news, Mom and I have gotten into a nice routine of caring for him, which will be promptly destroyed when Mom returns to work full time in 2 days...but we're ready for another adjustment period. One of the more frequently muttered phrases of late: "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Oh and we can't forget: "Woah, that's expensive. Eh it's ok, I'll just sell a kidney." But we're hanging in there and Dad is doing great at home, so it's all worth it. Will update again soon!

Side note for those of you who may be concerned; there was a Peace Corps Volunteer shot and killed in Lesotho during a mugging in the capitol this weekend. We spoke with Grant this morning and although he is obviously very shaken and saddened (the volunteers are a very tight knit community), he is safe and is doing alright. Our thoughts are with the volunteer's family and friends, as well as the entire PC Lesotho community.

One week down!

Well, it's been an interesting week! I think the best way to put it, in all honesty, is to say we are "hanging in there." At least that's become our rote response when anyone asks...so don't be surprised if that's what you get too! But despite the challenges of this situation, we've decided we are in fact, doing a damn good job.

Most of the headaches of the past week actually had more to do with Dad's equipment, not actually Dad himself. A lot of things arrived late or not at all (and still have not...), are the wrong size or wrong item altogether, or were just crappy quality and don't work (ahh yes, the hospital bed with a hand crank that breaks off mid-turn...that's not frustrating at all.) And yet despite all of this, he is incredibly patient with us and he's doing really well!

Now that he's home we're able to spend a lot more time with him, obviously, and because of this we're able to see more signs of progress. When he's awake, he talks constantly. Like before it's not always clear, but it's much more often. When I put him to bed last night (naturally he was wide awake, go figure), he start counting for me! Sometimes in his speech therapy sessions we ask him to count with us to ten, so I think that's where that came from. He's also starting to move his right arm voluntarily, outside of the posturing tone. Prior to this he wasn't moving any of his limbs voluntarily. He also makes appropriate faces in response to the conversation around him and answers yes/no questions more often. I've probably said this about a thousand times over the past 3 months, but I'll say it again...slowly but surely we're getting somewhere.

I don't know if I mentioned in my last update that they took Dad's trach out before he was discharged and it's healing beautifully (still looks a little funky to me, but Mom claims it's healing "beautifully," so we'll go with that). The fact that his lungs, not to mention all the rest, have recovered so rapidly from such a devastating assault reminds me how well he's doing, and that every bit of effort that Mom and I are putting into taking care of him is toward the goal of his full recovery, not just keeping him comfortable.

Thanks for the love and support over the past week...much needed and appreciated. Goodnight!

Home Sweet Home

Well, as crazy as it sounds (and is, really), he's home!

It's been really nice to have him here, and Toby's been lying by his bed or next to his wheelchair most of the time, just like we knew she would. It's been quite an adjustment; figuring out how to set up and use all the equipment that's been delivered, splitting up his feeding and meds schedules, improvising physical and occupational therapies. Mom and I won't be able to leave the house at the same time anymore, things like that are going to take some getting used to. According to her, it's like having a new baby...a really big one on lots of medications, I guess.

It is good to have him here, and not have to drive an hour to see him. But it's intimidating to know that at this point his progress pretty much depends on how we can advocate for him. We are going to do our best to make sure that he doesn't lose the progress he made while at CareMeridian, although he won't receive physical therapy and occupational therapy at the same frequency or intensity that he got while he was there. It seems crazy to me to send someone home in his condition, and we pushed as long as possible to keep him there, but it is what it is.

And so, moving forward, our goal is to get him to a point where he can go to acute inpatient rehab. In order to be eligible for that, he has to be able to handle at least 3 consecutive hours of physical therapy and consistently follow commands. It might take a few months to get him to that point, but he's definitely on his way.

Now we're looking for a wheel chair accessible minivan, we're looking into getting a tilt table, and I'm sure many other things that we'll discover we need in the next couple months. So far things are working out, and most importantly we can tell that Dad's definitely happy to be home. Hopefully the familiarity of his surroundings will contribute to his progress, on which I will definitely keep you updated!

Homecoming

Hello all! About time for an update, eh?

Well it's been a busy week, to say the least. The biggest news recently is that we now have a discharge date from CareMeridian...and it's this coming Wednesday, the 18th! Although it's sooner than we would have liked, we're excited to have Dad home. And this time we'll be prepared. With lots of help, work is underway to "handicap" the downstairs bedroom in our house. It'll be a little bit of a time crunch this week, but we're much more prepared than a month ago! Hopefully he'll be ready to go to an acute in-house rehab facility sooner than later, but until then it looks like he'll be having therapy here at home, or on an out-patient basis somewhere nearby.

The other news is that chances are his trach will be out by the time he comes home. As I wrote last week, he's been downsized as far as possible. They've now plugged his trach, and if he tolerates that for 72 hours, they can go ahead and remove the trach all together. We are really hoping he does not come home with a trach, as that would substantially increase the level of care we'd need to provide, so we're keeping our fingers crossed.

Mom will be starting back to work on September 7th, and I'll be starting classes here at Moorpark (only twice a week) this coming Tuesday. It will be nice for both us to have something else to concentrate on, and it shouldn't be too difficult to care for Dad. Luckily he's bearing weight on one of his legs which makes his transfers easier, and I'm getting better at doing it by myself (never thought I'd say this, but my dad actually weighs less than me now! Ah!!). A lot of what we'll be doing this week is learning how to care for him on a daily basis; feedings, feeding schedules, transfers, physical therapy, etc...hopefully NOT trach care. We'll see.

It's been an interesting summer (and you can imagine what I mean by interesting), but Mom and I are hanging in there, and Dad's condition is slowly improving. We've really appreciated the support we've received and it really will be nice to have him home. Some days are better than others (as his visitors yesterday surely noted), but that's what we've come to expect out of his recovery process. It is what it is.

I'll try to keep you all informed and updated, this is going to be a pretty crazy week, though, so be warned: he may be home before my next post!

Catching Up!

Alright, it's been a while, lots to catch up on, I'll just jump right in!

So last we left off, Dad was starting to talk. I'll go ahead and revise what I said earlier and admit that it's probably more like 99% of what he says that doesn't make sense. But he's still talking a lot, and every once in a while something connects somewhere and he makes sense. He seems to have an easier time with automatic phrases than with things he has to come up with on his own, or when something requires too much thought. For instance, if we prompt him with "Simi...," he has an easier time saying "...Valley," than when we ask, "Where do you live?" Sometimes he surprises us though, and can answer questions correctly. It's hit or miss, but he's getting there!

In other news, we've downsized his trach to a 6 (after which we'll move to a 4 and then he'll have it removed completely), and he's doing really well! This new trach is also fenestrated, meaning there are holes in the outer canula, making it even easier for him to use his vocal cards and cough through his mouth.

We did end up taking a couple "field trips" last week, first to the ENT to get the go ahead for downsizing his trach (obviously that went well!) and then we also took a trip to St. John's for a blood transfusion. For some reason Dad was a little anemic last week, still haven't determined the cause, but he's doing much better since the transfusion.

Last week we also ran into what will most likely be the first of many challenges with insurance. I won't get into too many details, but the bottom line was that they didn't feel Dad was progressing "fast enough" to warrant staying at CareMeridian, and wanted him to come home ...last Thursday! Well, needless to say, he is still at CareMeridian, mainly due to the progress he made last week, but it's clear now that this is going to be a constant fight from here on out. He's now progressed far enough that someone from the acute rehab center in Northridge came out to observe him. He's not quite ready yet, but she definitely thinks he will be in the next couple weeks! Nice.

So to sum up this delayed update, it's been a challenging couple of weeks for us, but Dad is doing well and that's what really matters. We're also working on getting the house ready for when he does end up coming home; next time they try to take us by surprise we'll be prepared!

Hope this finds everyone well! I'll update soon, promise!

This damn brain injury!

Something tells me this blog is slowly going to turn into simply a long list of things Dad says!

Well it will be for a little while, anyways. Mom and I had another really good day with him today. He had a rigorous three hours of physical therapy this morning during which, in a fit of frustration, he said "this damn brain injury!" Then apparently towards the end of therapy he said, "give me a break," and "back to bed." Pretty good, eh??

It's almost like hearing his own voice has woken him up or something. He took a little nap in the late morning and then he was wide awake all afternoon, sitting up, looking at us, talking to us. He's started to follow conversation, looking in the direction of whoever is talking to him. This afternoon the nurse threw something heavy in the trash can and he whipped his head around toward the noise. Just a week ago he would barely turn his head toward anything. He even laughs when we laugh; it's hysterical. I'd estimate that about 95% of what he says is gibberish, but he obviously thinks he makes perfect sense. Hopefully he doesn't get too frustrated with us for not understanding! Then there's the 5% of the time that he really does make sense. He often repeats things we say amidst sentences of gibberish, obviously trying to contribute to the conversation. Mom and I have come to the conclusion that he at least understands what happened and where he is...to some extent. It's better than nothing!

The other good news is that he's starting to assist in his transfers from the bed to the wheelchair, meaning that he's now bearing some weight on his legs. Apparently during his transfer after pt this morning, the physical therapist said "phenomenal transfer!," to which Dad replied "phenomenal transfer!" We'll take it!

I'm off to bed, but before I go, just a quick note about Grant...for those of you trying to keep track of his adventures, he's started a blog (such a copycat)!

Grant's Blog

Enjoy!

Look who's talking now!

Hi! Genuinely excited to be writing this one!

Well...as you may have guess from the title, Dad is now talking! As you hopefully remember from the last update, the respiratory therapist determined that Dad is doing well enough to start weening him from the trach. So we started with simply plugging the trach, which he tolerated extremely well. Now we've moved on the the Passy Muir valve, which is a one-way valve that allows Dad to inhale through the trach, and then exhale through his mouth. This allows him use of his vocal chords...and low and behold, he speaks!

Let me be entirely clear, it's not like we're carrying on full conversations with him; but on the other hand, sometimes he makes complete sense! Most of the time he mainly mumbles, but when he mumbles, he speaks with inflection and in what sound like sentences. Like always, he has moments of total lucidity, and moments where he is completely non-responsive. But when he is "awake," he talks constantly. So far he's said all of our names; for instance, "Say hi to Ben!" to which he responds "Ben." (Did I mention that Ben was in town this week? I'm a bad blogger; he was here.) When Ben told him that he lives in "Leesburg, Virginia," he responded by repeating "Leesburg, Virginia...mumble...Perseville." (Leesburg is near Perseville). He also mumbled something about "vines" when Mom mentioned that the hops were growing like crazy. He definitely understands us; and we think he also understands his condition and the situation to some extent. If ever it was a question whether or not he's in there, we finally have our answer!

Dad's progress has been really slow and it's been easy lately (for me, at least) to get discouraged, but this latest milestone has given me and Mom our second (or third, or fourth, or fifth...etc.) wind. Hopefully it does the same for everyone reading this as well.

We're getting him back! Cheers!!!

Cheesy Analogy

Well I've decided since my little break in Carpinteria, that Dad's progress is much like watching his hops grow. As most of you know, either my mom or myself or both of us sit with Dad 6+ hours a day. If we were to, say, sit in the front yard and watch his hops grow for that long every day, we probably wouldn't notice their growth (for those of you who don't know, Dad planted some hops just before his heart attack...). But after a few days away from the hops, I come back to see that they've gone crazy, taken over the tomato plants, wound their way around the patio chairs and are threatening to climb up the side of the house.

Basically I'm just looking for another way to say that he's doing really well. Sometimes (I'll admit!) I can be negative, get really discouraged; but all it takes is a little time away to see the progress he's made. He's even doing so well that his physical therapist made point to call my mom yesterday to tell her how great he's doing. He's starting to recognize people (he's never happy to see his occupational therapist; probably because he's good at his job!), he stays awake for longer periods of time, and is getting a lot better at controlling his muscle tone (posturing). We're hoping to wean him from the trach soon as well because it seems like he's trying to talk (probably nonsense, but it'd be a start) and has so far tolerated plugging it very well. He even burped yesterday; not sure if that constitutes improvement, but it's different!

So, yes, sometimes it's hard for me to pinpoint the improvement he's making. But he is certainly improving. All forward movement is good, no matter the pace...even if by the time he gets home the entire neighborhood is covered with hop vines.

Side note: Cheryl and Stu, totally saw that you bought Dad a beer at Island Brewery! Let's hope he can go claim it one of these days!

Nice cough!

Hi all! Hope this finds everyone well; we're doing alright for the time being ourselves :)

Just to quickly update you on dad: still doing pretty well! Therapists are being aggressive with his therapy, which means that by the time mom and I arrive he is usually pretty much spent. That's okay though, we're totally fine that he's giving most of his energy to them! Yesterday they started the process of plugging his trach, for only 30 minutes to start, but so far so good! He has a very strong cough, and still a lot of secretions from his lungs, so the concern is that he doesn't choke on them as he coughs them up (sorry if this is gross). Normally they are coughed out of his trach (the other day it flew clear across the room and slimed up the dresser...eeeew), so as he becomes more aware he'll hopefully be able to spit them out of his mouth. For the time being he swallows them, which is also fine, if not totally disgusting. It was really nice to hear him cough like normal though. So he was plugged for only 30 minutes; hopefully they will plug him a little longer today. While he was plugged his O2 sat stayed nice and high, so things look hopeful there. We still aren't sure whether they will wean him from the trach while he's not following commands, but his swallow is clearly strong, so we'll see.

The only slight set back is that he might have a little bit of an infection in his lungs. The respiratory therapist said that while he was plugged and breathing through his mouth she was able to hear a lot of congestion on the right side. His secretions are also pretty thick and slightly yellow, which is generally not a great sign. Still no fever though, and we think it might be because the had the humidifier turned down yesterday, so we'll just have to wait and see. He still seems completely comfortable and is as aware as before. We really haven't had any hiccups since the move to this new facility, so maybe we're due. Hopefully it'll just pass!

The only other bit of news is that he's been moved. Unfortunately he no longer has a private room, but his roommate is walking and spends very little time in the room. There are also curtains for privacy and he's right next to a nice big window, so we're fine with it. So in case you decide to go visit, he's in room #2 now.

Well I'll be visiting a friend in Carpenteria for a few days, only wish my mom could get an equal break (although she wouldn't take it if she could...)! So I won't be posting for a couple days; not that it would be too unusual. Feel free to call either my mom or myself if you need an update or have questions.

Me: 805-558-7515

Mom: 805-558-3732

Mini-hophead Update 2

Lumelang! (Pronounced "Dumela," means Hello!)

Just thought I'd update those of you who are not on Grant's email list in case you're wondering what he's been up to recently. So far we've received a couple emails and a nice long letter (in surprisingly legible handwriting!) so I'll just sum them up for ya.

Currently he is training in a town called Makhetoaeng (moh-ket-wah-neh-eng), where he is living with a host family consisting of his mother (M'e Mahlabathe), father (Ntate Bofihe), brother (Abute Sempe, 16), sister (Ausi Mamella, 5) and sister (Ausi Botle, 3). Peace Corps is definitely keeping him busy with 8 hours of training each day, starting out with Sesotho and then technical training in the afternoon (mostly HIV/AIDS education). From his correspondence, it sounds like he's doing well! He really likes the other trainees and seems to have a good relationship with his host family. His host family doesn't speak English, aside from his host father, who speaks very little but tries to teach him Sesotho words. It sounds like his host brother is a little shy and didn't want to talk to him at first, but hopefully that has gotten better (I found that my best interpreters at first were often times kids in school who wanted to practice their English). Although there were a few hiccups at first (the TV for his seat on the flight over didn't work, and his luggage got there 2 days after he did), he sounds like he's settling into it. He'll be finished with training in mid-August, swearing in on August 13! Then he'll be a real PCV, and moving to the town where he'll be working for the rest of his service.

His letters and emails are very upbeat, and mom and I really hope he isn't dwelling too much on Dad. But keeping him up to date on Dad's condition seems to help and he's been so busy lately, he says he's been pretty successful at not thinking about it too much.

It seems like he has access to email once in a while, so I'll leave his address if anyone wants to drop him a note. He's also still able to receive letters (although I don't know how fast they get there). Right now he says letters and pictures are the way to go; if you want to send a package you might want to wait until he's settled into his permanent site.

*Side note: Lesotho is the country, Basotho are the people, Sesotho is the language (I know, it's a little confusing).

Grant's Info:

PCT Grant Comstock

U.S. Peace Corps

P.O. Box 554

Maseru 100

Lesotho

grantcomstock@gmail.com

If you'd like to be added to his mass email list, just send him an email. (He asked me to mention that, he thinks he may have left some people off his first.)

Team Huddle

Happy 4th of July (on the 5th of July...oops)! Hope everyone had a great weekend! We just watched fireworks from the couch on TV last night, but don't let that fool you, we had plenty of fun (unfortunately it's difficult for me to make this sentence drip with the sarcasm I intend while typing...). Just kidding, we've had a nice busy weekend; busy=distracted! Dad's had lots of visitors (thanks!) and we've had lots of supportive company. Here's the latest on Dad:

So we had a meeting with the team treating Dad at CareMeridian this past Thursday to hear about their plans for his rehab. Unfortunately we weren't able to meet with his physician, but we did get a chance to talk with the physical therapist, speech therapist and occupational therapist (the activities coordinator was there, but all she did was give my dad a haircut last week, so we'll skip her for the time being...and now he kindof looks like he joined the marines, but whatever). The physical therapist says he's doing great, working really hard with her. Right now he is up in his wheel chair about 2 hours each day, and the plan is to extend that to 2 hours twice a day (probably starting with one hour in the morning and one at night, and getting a little longer each time). She's also planning to get him up on the standing frame (think of it like this; they strap him to a table laying down and then slowly tilt it upright), at about 45 degrees once a day to start. This should start getting him used to bearing weight on his lower body. The speech therapist was not quite as fun to hear from; he estimates that Dad follows commands about 20% of the time (basically just not a lot) and that he has a hard time keeping his attention. He also mentioned that although Dad's hearing seems to be fine, he doesn't think he is seeing much or that he at least doesn't have control of his eye movement. He again reminded us that this is mostly speculation because he has so far been unable to communicate. Hopefully soon we can establish a "yes" and "no." The occupational therapist apparently showers him in the mornings and let us know that he is, in fact, bearing some weight on his legs when lifted from his wheelchair. Although it's still not enough to help with getting him out of the chair, this is a good sign. I guess usually people are not able to bear weight and tend to curl their legs under them when lifted to a standing position. The OT is also working on ordering him a customized wheelchair and new splints for his hands; his contractures have become very pronounced and painful (side note, if you want him to open his eyes, stretch one of his fingers out...does NOT like it).

That's just a brief summary, but all in all it was a pretty positive meeting. They consensus seems to be that he's in there, it's just going to be a matter of helping him regain control of his body. They are also pretty honest and blunt with us, as well as proactive in planning what the next steps will be, for our part and theirs. We'll be having these meetings twice a month to make sure we all stay on the same page.

That's it for now, hope you're all well! I'll try not to wait a whole week before updating again ;)

Inch by inch, really.

Sorry, sorry, I know it's been a while. I could say I've been busy...but to be honest, I've just been doing a lot of nothing! Sitting with my dad, watching Ellen, reading here and there, trying with very little success to convince my grandmother that just because she's cold does not necessarily mean that I am cold too and no, I don't want a sweater, thanks (I got a sweater anyways.)

But in all honestly, Nana's 86 years have given her wisdom far beyond mine; and as she likes to say, "Yard by yard, life is hard. But inch by inch, life's a cinch." Uhh, how cute is that? And so damn appropriate.

I'm getting a little off track, but to continue with the update, we are SO happy with CareMeridian. I was a little skeptical at first, but I've been really impressed so far with the level of care the staff is giving my dad and the level of support they are providing us. Every morning around 7, the nurse wakes him up (I use "wakes up" loosely, his sleep cycles are a lot shorter than ours so he doesn't sleep through the night or stay awake all day), gives him a bath, and puts him in fresh clothes. Six days a week he has a PT session and then some days has a sessions with the occupational therapist, on others meets with the speech therapist. Visiting hours don't start until 11am, at which time we usually arrive and start our part. Mom and I try to talk to him and stimulate him as much as possible. We read to him, move his arms and legs, try to get him to follow commands, etc. Then in the afternoon they put him in a specialized wheel chair. At first the therapist thought we would need to order some sort of brace for neck support but after getting used to sitting upright, Dad was able to hold his head up entirely on his own (really, really, good!). Then we can usually take him outside and sit him in the sun...wouldn't want him to lose that ever present tan, right? Although he's not very reactive, and can't communicate effectively with us, after spending so much time with him, Mom and I seem to be on the same page about what we think he likes and doesn't. We agree he definitely likes being outside!

All in all, he seems to be doing well with the move. I'm sure it'll take some time for him to get used to all the activity (after all, at the hospital they were so focused on getting him "not sick" they didn't do much else). So far all things are heading in the right direction, albeit slowly. It's been a challenge to have no time frame, no expectations, no prognosis, but Mom and I are getting through it with high hopes and a lot of laughter (...and a LOT wine...just kidding, Nana keeps that in check).

So after another wild and crazy Friday night, it's time to say goodnight and head to bed. I promise to update again soon. G'night!

New Digs

He's been moved!

We are now heading the opposite direction on the 101, up to Oxnard each morning to visit Dad. He was transported yesterday around 3:30 pm, arrived around 5:30 pm, and all went as smoothly as possible. Mom and I were able to go see him last night and make sure everything was in order. We were lucky enough to get him a private room (initially we thought he would have to share), and everything looks good. It looks a little bit like an older hotel room in a B&B (if you added a hospital bed and a humidifier of course). He has a dresser and a wardrobe and TV. Today they'll put him in his own clothes, probably just a t-shirt and sweats for today, but should be much more comfortable.

When we stopped by last night to see him he seemed much more alert and comfortable than he had in the hospital. It's obvious that he is trying to control his involuntary spasms and I think he's getting a little better about it every day. He gave us a big smile when we came in and it's starting to look like he's trying to talk (of course only sometimes, and he can't with the trach). So all in all, we're really happy with the decision to move him. It's been a good couple of days, just hoping we can keep this up!

Anyone is more than welcome to come see him. If you want to give either my mom or myself a call to let us know, that would be great. Again, he's at a place called CareMeridian in Oxnard, room #4. Visiting hours are from 11am-8pm.

Me: 805-558-7515
Mom: 805-558-3732

(Try to call me first, she gets a little inundated with phone calls sometimes.)

The real thing!

I got a bit ahead of myself last week, but now I can say Happy Father's Day for real! If ever there was incentive to be a good dad, just think about our situation. One of my favorite things is when the doctors and nurses come into the room, check out the pictures and things we have on the walls and say "He must be a really good dad." Yep, he is.

Well I don't know if he knows it's Father's Day (I told him, but who knows), but he is certainly having a great day! He's been nice and calm all morning, opening his eyes from time to time, moving a little. We're having less of the spasms (posturing) and sweating than the past couple of days which is a nice break. No fever to speak of today, but had a low grade fever last night. The doctors that came in this morning said they now think it is a central cause because he is currently infection free. His lungs are also sounding a lot clearer and he's not coughing out secretions as much. They also said his is definitely stable enough at this point to be moved to the new facility in Oxnard. So off we go tomorrow! There we'll begin trying to get him off the trach and start physical therapy. His hands are going to be a particular challenge because of contractures that are setting in. His legs are also starting to lose flexibility which is of some concern. Hopefully the sooner therapy starts, the sooner we can start reversing the loss of flexibility and muscle mass. As always, it's going to be a long road.

Nana arrived safely on Wednesday and I think it's been much more comforting for her to be able to see him. It's also been nice for him to have her familiar voice, "Tommy! Tommy look at me!" It's cute. As my mom and I have starting getting used to, she's adjusting to the "two steps forward, one step back" progression of his recovery. Her patience is pretty phenomenal.

Ok well we're getting ready to sit Dad up in the cardiac chair, nice little Father's Day treat! Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there!

"I'd rather be home brewing"

Just a quick update for the day! I'm with Dad here at the hospital while Mom tries to get some things done at home.

He was moved yesterday to a different unit, as he no longer needs to be on in the specific neurology ward because there really isn't anything more they can do for him in that aspect. His primary doctor is now an internist and the main goal is to get him well enough to be moved. He had a slight fever this morning which came down after another round of antibiotics, but we still aren't sure whether infection is at fault or it's a more central cause. Either way, more antibiotics, just to cover the bases.

Other than the fever he's doing pretty well today. He's been wide awake since mid-morning, going through his now normal cycles of sweating and tensing up, then relaxing. He hates it when I wipe the sweat off his face. Picture wiping spaghetti sauce off a toddler's face with a wet washcloth...that scrunched up "get off me!" kind of face. Honestly it's one of my favorite reactions because 1) it's appropriate and 2) it's really funny (a bit like payback from when I was a toddler!). He's also very clearly trying to control his movements. We are working on getting him to keep his tongue in his mouth when he has stronger spasms; he tends to stick it out. He was also able to keep his arms at his sides long enough for a chest x-ray this afternoon, and keep his right arm relaxed long enough to have his blood pressure taken. I could be wrong (it's all subjective, really) but he seemed to be consciously working to keep them still; the moment each procedure was finished he immediately tensed up, pulling his arms into his chest.

At any rate, I just spoke with his case manager and it looks like because of these fevers, we are now looking at either Friday or early next week for the move to the sub-acute facility. So if you decide to come down for a visit, just remember he's been moved and to check at the information desk before you come up.

That's it for now, looks like I'm a little late for happy hour. Go Lakers!

Father's Day Part I

Sooo, Mom and I definitely thought today was Father's Day...we're a bit disconnected lately, you see. As such we decided we are having two Father's Days this year. I mean, hell, why not?

Even though today is not the official Father's Day, here we sit in the hospital with him, watching a little soccer, reading a little bit of the Sunday paper. You know, we're just chillin'.

And I mean that for real, he is super chill right now. Yesterday and today he looks remarkably more comfortable and relaxed. We've been sitting him up in a cardiac chair, which he loves. His fever is down and his infections appear to be responding to the myriad of antibiotics he is receiving. He still goes through periods of profuse sweating, but as one of the doctors reminded us this morning, his autonomic nervous system is wacky (for lack of a more medically accurate term) and could be the cause of not only that, but the fevers as well. His heart is also doing better. Earlier in the week doctors noticed fairly frequent runs of ventricular tachycardia, which have subsided. His pneumonia is also getting a little better, as he is coughing up a ton of secretions (btw, sputum is my new favorite word) and although they have decreased his O2, his O2 sat remains high. All in all he is well on his way to being healthy enough to be moved from the hospital to a sub-acute care facility.

And speaking of sub-acute care facilities, we've decided where he'll go next! He'll be going to a really nice place in Oxnard called CareMeridian. There, the main goal will be to wean him from the trach and get him to a level of functioning in which he participates in his physical therapy. We looked at a few facilities and decided on this one because of the high staff to patient ratio, it was really clean and new, and honestly, was the least like a "nursing home" that we visited. It was a tough decision, but we're really excited to get him moved. He'll most likely be discharged Wednesday or Thursday of this week, if all goes accordingly.

My Nana (Dad's mom) is coming out to visit this week from Richmond, which we are really looking forward to. I've put the phone on speaker and let her talk to Dad a couple times and his face totally lights up, it's really sweet. Moms are certainly the best when you're sick, so we're sure he's looking forward to her visit too.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll try to update more frequently. This has become less of a daily update than I intended. Hope this finds everyone well and please let us know if you would like to come visit. It's a little bit of a drive (or cross-country flight) for many of you, but Dad is doing well enough for visitors now (OR you can wait until he's in Oxnard to avoid the hellish traffic and $11 parking). Either way it's good for him to hear other voices!

Oh, and Happy Father's Day. Ha.

Mini-hophead (Grant) Update

In case anyone is interested in writing, I'm going to go ahead and post Grant's contact info for Lesotho. We got a phone call from him last week, and he sounds really great! Says it's absolutely beautiful there. He was in the capital, Maseru, when he called but was getting ready to head to the CBT site (community based training), which is about 45 min outside Maseru. We also got a nice email this morning from the Lesotho Country Director saying the volunteers are all settled with their host families and starting their training. Sounds good so far!

He won't have regular access to email during training, so we all have to do it the old fashion way for a while:

Grant Comstock, PCV
U.S. Peace Corps
P.O. Box 554
Maseru 100
Lesotho

(This picture was taken right when they arrived, you can sort of see Grant in the back row, one in from the right.)

June Gloom

Good evening all! Hope this latest update finds you all well and rested from the weekend!

We actually had a bit of a rough weekend, I'll admit. As many times as I've said out loud that I know this is going to be a long, tough process, it's really starting to sink in. Like I said, there were some obvious improvements to my Dad's condition in the two weeks I was gone, but it seems with every step in the right direction comes a new challenge or worry right behind.

At this point, Dad's been hospitalized for almost five weeks. And what's the worst place for someone in his condition (extremely weak, immunocompromised...you see where I'm going with this one...)?? The hospital, naturally. So this weekend was all about infections (picc line, catheter, respiratory) and fevers. Not only do the infections put more stress on his already super stressed body, but we can tell how uncomfortable he is, which has been incredibly tough for us. Luckily after a night of three heavyweight antibiotics and a little Tylenol with codeine (mmm...), he seemed much more comfortable and responsive this morning.

But we should always end on a positive note! His new doc talked to us today and told us, AND I QUOTE: "His latest scan gives us reason to be cautiously optimistic." He also reminded us that we need to be patient, as the majority of the damage they are seeing is to the thalamic region of his brain, which generally means a slow recovery. (But hey, recovery is recovery, right?)

So to sum things up, we are now working on getting Dad out of the hospital. Mom's checking out a few sub-acute care facilities while I hang out with him tomorrow. We're trying to limit his visitors a little while he is still battling these infections, probably until he is transferred to a new facility, but please feel free to contact me or my mom if you want more details.

Ok, time for bed. I need my beauty rest. G'night.

And we're back!

My apologies for the absence of posts for the last two weeks, I was a little preoccupied. Hopefully most of you received the emails my mom sent, but for those of you who didn't, I'll fill you in:

Dad was transferred to UCLA's Neuro ICU two weeks ago yesterday, where he received fantastic care. As usual, he was by far the tannest, most popular guy in the unit. All kidding aside, his treatment was great. His doctor even did rounds through a robot...seriously, a robot. He has shown no seizure activity and his scans are even "improved" to use to the direct quote (apparently this neurologist is a man of very few words, but we'll take it!).

The big news is that he is now entirely off the ventilator, and was moved yesterday morning to a stepdown unit. He's still receiving oxygen (part of the weaning process), but we're really proud that he's come this far. As far as his activity goes, he is now able to smile and stick his tongue out on command. His eyes are open pretty much most of the time, which is a huge change from when I last saw him. He still doesn't track anything, but he does a good job of looking in the general direction of the person talking to him.

All in all he seems more alert than when I last saw him. His weight loss is also a big change that I wasn't expecting to be as drastic, but it's to be expected. He'll be starting physical therapy this week to get him moving again.

Well I am heading down to the hospital now, let's hope there's less traffic because it's Saturday(uuugh I hate the 405)!! I'll post again soon!

From Chicago..

Well, I'll be pretty far from what's happening in California for the next week (plus I've already cancelled the internet for my apt!), so when I do have access to internet I'll just be adding my mom's email updates. Just a head's up!

And for those of you who are friends and coworkers of mine in Chicago, if you haven't heard I'll be leaving Chi-town to move home for at least a year to be with my mom and dad. It'll be nice to be close to them and help out through my dad's recovery. Hopefully I'll be back soon!

Hi All,

Tom had a pretty good weekend. He is certainly in the right place thanks to everyone who helped (Kim…thanks), and the efforts of Dr. Dudley (neurologist at Los Robles). I can’t thank him enough for his help and have a new appreciation for families navigating through the health care system, now just need to find a cheaper gas station!!

They continue to wean him from the ventilator, still has pneumonia, fever…all to be expected.

Yes, we are seeing small…sometimes imperceptible changes, but the neuro team there are his best cheerleaders. Today he is having a specialized PET scan to look at brain metabolism. No seizure activity noted on his continuous EEG. Every day is different…no more “toe wiggling”…however we really feel he is more and more aware.

Allie is in Chicago this week getting her apartment cleaned out and settled. Then she will drive back to Simi and will stay here with me for the next year or so. I’m so grateful she is able to do that. Grant leaves for Lesotho next Tuesday for a 27 month Peace Corps stint. A very tough decision for him, but he knows Tom would want him to go. Ben is back in Virginia, working at the vineyard…but plans to try to get back sometime this summer. Looking forward to visits from Tom’s brothers and my sister and nephew.

Please keep up with Allie’s blog…she does such a good job of expressing our feelings (link below…again). She will start up again when she gets back next week.

Thanks again for everyone’s support, love, prayer’s and well wishes…please continue to keep Tom in your thoughts.

As George would say…we are now “Bruckeyes”??....(Go Bruins…!).

A shout out to my brother Bill who is also in the hospital….doing better I hear…keep up the good work bro..!...talk to you soon.

Thanks All

Anne

Go Bruins!

Good evening all!

Ok this one's going to be short, because I'm pretty tired and leaving for Chicago early tomorrow, but we've successfully moved my dad to the Neuro ICU at UCLA Medical Center. Even after visiting for a short time this evening after his transfer, we are already feeling this was a good move. He is a very large, private room, with constant care from a wide variety of staff, all specifically trained to care for patients with neurologic conditions. One thing we find particularly reassuring is that he is being monitored continuously by an EEG machine to keep an eye out for seizure activity (so far, so good).

His activity today was minimal, but he was given meds to prevent seizures during the transfer which subdued him somewhat (oh but he did stick his tongue out at my mom, and moved his toe for Paula). Plus, if I'm tired, think how he must feel...

We are really excited about this move and are extremely interested to hear what his new neurologist has to say about his condition and prognosis (up to this point there hasn't really been any). Although we are aware that this might not mean a huge change in treatment, we are much more comfortable knowing he'll be getting the best care for his condition possible. If the situation were reversed and one of us was sick, I know he wouldn't have it any other way.

I'll keep you posted!

"Can you hear me?"

Well, to answer my Uncle George's question, the picture at the top of this blog is one of my favorites of me and my dad. It was taken at a beer and blues festival (naturally) in Mammoth about a year ago. Over 60 of the state's best microbreweries and unlimited tastings (many repeat trips to the Green Flash tent), so to make a long story short, we all end up passing out in lawn chairs and missing most of the music...nonetheless one of the best weekends we've all had in recent memory.

But on to the big news of the day: I think my dad can hear us! I've been saying it all along, "Oh yeah, I know he's in there. I know he can hear us and he's going to wake up and remember all of this...etc." But I can honestly say now that I was LYING. And the reason I'm comfortable admitting this is that now I actually do think he can hear us. While I was reading to him this morning, I thought I saw his foot move. So naturally I said, "Do that again, Dad. Move your toe." And I swear, he did it again. And then twice more on command!

So he's still not breathing entirely on his own, his hemaglobin is low, still running a low grade fever, and not all of his movements are purposeful (some still cause for concern), but nevertheless I left the hospital this afternoon with...dare I say...a good feeling. Without going overboard, I can say I'm getting a little more comfortable now with the optimism my mom has maintained from day one.

"Turn your face to the sun, and let the shadows fall behind you." -Maori Proverb

One day at a time!

Welcome to Tom's update! In hopes of keeping everyone well informed, I decided a blog would be the best way to share my dad's progress through this difficult time with friends and family. For the many of you reading this with medical backgrounds (because there are quite a few) please bear with me! Please just post a note or send me an email if there are any glaring errors or something needs clarification.

To fill in those who might not be familiar with my dad's recent accident, here's a brief synopsis:

Thursday May 6th, while at his morning swim workout, my dad suffered a heart attack and full arrest while in the water. He was only under water for 15-20 seconds, thanks to the speedy efforts of his teammates, coaches and the lifeguards that pulled him out. Unfortunately, however, he still managed to inhale a decent amount of water and was without a pulse and was not breathing for an undetermined amount of time. He was quickly transported to Los Robles Hospital in Thousand Oaks, where he is currently in the Coronary Care Unit (CCU) still in critical condition. His condition, however, has much improved from when he was first brought in! In the past two weeks, he is being aggressively weened off the ventilator and is doing well (except for a mild case of pneumonia, which is to be expected); he is tolerating his feedings very well and his digestive tract has returned to normal; his heart (believe it or not) is virtually undamaged, thanks to some pretty impressive collateral circulation around the blocked arteries.

As my mom likes to say, this is going to be his new "triathalon" (ie cardiac, pulmonary, and neuro). Because his brain was without oxygen for an extended amount of time, the neurological repercussions of this accident are still unknown and are of the greatest concern. But like the title of this post says, we are taking it one day at a time. So far, each day, we are heading in the right direction! No matter how slow the progress, it's still progress. After all, my dad certainly is a notorious procrastinator!

Thanks for following his progress, most definitely for all the love and support!