He has only a PICC line left, and Momma has learned how to give him his antibiotics through it. I’m not sure how long he’ll have to take those meds, but I imagine it will be for a while.
Daddy has lost so much weight – he’s so thin you can see the tubes the surgeon used to do the aortic bypass. One snakes down each side of his chest from the axillary arteries to the femoral arteries. He’s gone down a size or two in clothing – that belly you see in the picture is no longer there – and he’s now wearing track suits. It’s kind of funny to see my khakis-and-golf-shirt Daddy in a track suit.
His physical therapy is going well; he says he’s sore, but I tell him it’s a good kind of sore because it means his muscles are working. He’s getting around with the help of a walker, but hopefully he’ll get stronger soon.
The biggest problem I see is his mental state: Sometimes I get the feeling that he doesn’t want to try so hard. That he wants someone to feel sorry for him or do everything for him. But he won’t get better if he doesn’t fight hard to get healthy again. And it won’t happen if he doesn’t do it for himself.
Don’t get me wrong. This whole situation totally sucks for him. To go from playing golf one Monday to almost dying on Saturday. Then spending two months in a hospital with drains and tubes and stents and monitors attached to him. I get that.
But it’s up to him to do the work to get well. We can encourage him nicely and gently. But if that doesn’t work, we’ll give him some tough love. We’re not going to sit back and watch him waste away. He can just get mad at me, but he’s going to do the work when I’m around.
We’re going to their house this weekend to hang out. I’ve talked to him every day, and so far he sounds great. I hope being at home is just what he needs to speed his recovery.
I appreciate everyone who has said a prayer or sent good wishes or kept a good thought for him. And I’d like to ask for you to continue. It’s going to be a long haul, but we’re ready for the trip.