How Mr.’s Stroke Helped Us Choose Our Word for 2025

I’m sitting here staring at the blinking line flashing on the screen before me, remembering days when I’d felt the urge to write to you, yet it was hard to find something to write about. I find comfort in knowing that some things about myself will be a steady reminder of life before Mr.’s stroke. Gotta love continuity, eh?

Ah…as the snow melts, and Spring approaches, I remember my adventures in the yard and my happy place in the tea house. You remember that too, right?

My mind now spins daily (hourly, minute by minute, second by second). With what you ask?

With lots of thoughts.

With lots of wishes tugging at the heartstrings holding back the tears and sometimes just letting them flow.

With lots of regrets.

With lots of “I sure miss that…”

With lots of hope for new ways to navigate life.

Mostly, with lots of love, unwavering, stronger than ever kind of love each time Mr. says to me, “I couldn’t do this without you.” I shiver as I pass by the empty bed knowing that he was STUCK in one in the hospital and NH for SO long. How he hated being there with strangers.

Instead of strangers, we are blessed with daily visits with his parents. Who, by the way, are an inspiration for a lifetime of love. They’re in their late 80s and are powerhouses of determination and devotion to their son. And, our daughters who visit alternating weeks to help me get a break. Their hugs help me feel safe to cry.

Other than that, it is mostly just me and Mr. together with his good leg/arm strength, the Turner Pro (affectionately labeled, Ike Turner for the outside trips and transfers in/out of the car and Tina Turner for the inside transfers from bed to commode/shower chair and wheelchair) and the trusty gait belt. We change Mr.’s location and scenery multiple times a day now.

We’ve made it outside a few times to walk up and down the driveway. We’ve used our new shower/commode chair daily. Not for showers, but the commode chair is a throne that won our hearts over the bedpan! When we do showers, we still have an extra pair of hands with a family member to be as safe as possible. The new shower chair system is delightful and feels very safe for all of us.

QUICK STATUS UPDATE: Sleep at night has been good – the Pure Wick system has been a true blessing. Mr. is up and out of his bed more than in his bed during the day. He eats/feeds himself without as much cueing. He’s even been able to open jar lids and pour sauces onto his plate so dexterity with his right hand is as perfect as was pre-stroke. He’s reading multiple-lined paragraphs by the techniques he’s learned in speech therapy. We’re focusing PT/OT therapies on transfers to/from the vehicle. Home Health Therapy benefits from our insurance policy end soon so we’ll need to go to outpatient therapy until that too is exhausted. Sadly, his needs versus criteria of meeting coverage and benefit maximums don’t drive the care provided. He has been referred to a neuro-ophthalmologist for visual cut and left neglect. We’re still waiting to hear when there is an opening in Rochester, MN. We need to be able to get in/out of the car and transport his wheelchair to go so I guess that’s advantageous we’re working on the right things. Home Health staff also referred him for outpatient PT/OT and possibly ST locally. Unfortunately, seizures remain an annoyance that shows up briefly and randomly. Overall…8 months post-stroke, he continues to progress, and Todd (his arm) and Troy (his leg) continue to show increasing activation and contributory participation.

He ambulates in his wheelchair in his small home within our home. He’s comfortable here and I can’t tell you how much I love having him near. It’s nice seeing him rest when his recovering brain tells him to.

He’s been home since December 20th. Our daughter gave us a new calendar designed by David M Bird. Beecorns are delightful and fun to see. I smile every time I walk by the calendar. The theme for 2025 has me smitten so much that I guess we’ve found our word for 2025. Our new life is turning into an adventure in swashbuckling.

I’m amazed daily at the bravery and chivalry of Mr. His determination to keep making list after list of what he’ll do when he walks again, or when his arm works again, and his perseverance to keep trying whatever therapy comes his way has me falling in love with him more and more each day. He’s rarely blue about what happened to him. “That’s a waste of my time.” “What a long strange trip it’s been.” He’s in love with the fact he’s alive and he’s home, instead of a nursing home. And so am I.

And now…it’s time to run again, he’s calling for me. Hugs to you, you’re in my thoughts as I wonder what is new with you too.