Hi everyone,
I can't believe it's almost Thanksgiving. What are you thankful for this year?
I am thankful for mindless crafting, my dog, and Harry Potter. And some more stuff, but those are the first things that came to mind.
I apologize for my last entry, which you will notice I have taken down - at least for the time being. It was more about me and less about dad. In journalism they say that you're not doing your job unless you make somebody mad. Or in my case, lots of somebodies. Of course, it's a little bit harder when it's your family that is mad. And not, say, the entire UAH Publications Board - but that's a story for another day. See, growing up I was a self-editor. You know, one of those overly awkward, ugly-duckling, type of kids that filters what they think and say to make people like them more. And then a few years ago I got tired of it. Really tired of it. Now I'm just honest, plain ol' Sarah. I just call things how I see them and let the pieces fall where they may. You make less friends that way, but probably a better politician. You know, in case I ever decide to run for the senate.
Dad continues to progress well at home. For the most part his pain is under control and it looks like he probably won't need another round of steroids. His speech has also improved significantly. This is great news! He goes walking every day and when he thinks we're not looking he does things he's not supposed to - like work in the yard or ride his bike. I know everything dad, muhahahaha! He isn't allowed to drive yet, but I know he is anxious to get behind the wheel of our stunning kidnapper-esque white van. He plans to go back to work full-time next week, but of course we are worried that he might be overestimating his stamina. And then he reminds us that he is flying a desk, not the space shuttle. Touché. I'm sure the Jacobs folks have missed that sense of humor. All in all I guess things are back to normal - meaning the two of us are driving each other crazy, just like we always have. I nag him to wash his hands and cough/sneeze into his upper arm and he follows me around turning off lights because he thinks I'm running up the power bill. I promise I'm not, dad. I just meander in and out of my bathroom a lot.
When we were researching treatment options, we noticed that the Stanford website says that patients who undergo the moyamoya bypass surgery cannot engage in certain activities afterwards, like skydiving or scuba diving. They also have to avoid wearing hats and helmets that might occlude the artery that was rerouted from under the scalp into the brain. I asked a lot of the doctors and nurses that we met what would happen if it was occluded - just so we would know. The most definitive answer came from Dr. Jaffe, who said he would experience symptoms similar to those he had during his TIA. Sure enough, despite having his glasses adjusted once so that they didn't press on his temple as much, Dad was sitting at the computer yesterday and his right hand and arm began to go numb. After about ten minutes he realized what it was, took off the glasses, and the feeling began to return. I guess that's a good sign that everything is working as it should. We had to go get his glasses adjusted again yesterday, but that's so much better than having the threat of a major stroke hanging over your head. Still, it's funny to think about. I always sit with a leg tucked under me. If my foot goes numb I know to shake my leg a bit to get the blood flowing. If dad's arms or legs start going numb, or his speech slurs, he has to remember to take off his glasses and, um, shake his head?
More later. I promise I have a backlog of entries to finish.
Love,
Rocketgirl
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