Home Sweet Home Indeed

One week ago, after forty-nine days in the hospital, Dad came home. I think we all held our breath for a couple of days but everything seems to be falling into place. My mom has great help coming every day. Rose (my mother's brother's wife's sister-not kidding) spends most nights, and Armeda is coming during the day. I don't think they will need help forever, but I think it is making this whole process easier.
Dad is generally in good spirits, but annoyed that he can't be helpful. I have told him a million times that his job is getting better. He faithfully does his exercises but he wants to do more. I can't blame him. We are trying to find things that he can do so that his brain is occupied. It's a fine line to have him do enough that he's distracted but not so much that he's exhausted.
Dad is still trying to wrap his mind around learning to walk again. It seems unreal that you would have to relearn how to do something you have been doing most of your life. I've tried to explain that he has all kinds of new hardware in his legs, so it's going to feel different when he tries to walk(and that's not mentioning his muscle problems). The physical therapist had him stand up with his walker today. He had to have help getting to a standing position but he was able to do it twice.
When I talked to him tonight, he had gotten in bed and his dog was in bed with him. Since Dad has been home, his dog, Pepper, gets in bed every time Dad does. She snuggles right against him and curls up. Yes, the walking is going to be difficult, and yes, the road is going to be long, but man oh man is it good to have him home.

Cabin Fever ~ Hospital Edition

Because we live near the beach and so rarely see snow, my family was delighted when a couple of inches fell Sunday night and Monday morning.  I had spent the night with my dad at the Rehabilitation Hospital and loved watching the snowflakes falling with him.  While we enjoyed the beauty, it led to THREE days of school closings.  Just those three days were enough to make me appreciate my friends who live in colder climates, (I'm looking at you Sarah!) Three days were enough for all of us to experience a little cabin fever which made me think about the way I feel at the hospital.

I am so grateful for all of the people who have been helping to care for my father in the hospital, but I do not like to go there.  For a while I had to go because Dad was too weak to even push the call button for the nurse.  Now he is SO much better, but I still go to make sure I know what's going on and help him pass the time.  Plus now that he will be coming home next week we all have to be trained to help him move from his wheelchair to the bed and bathroom.  I will be so glad for him to be home for so many reasons not the least of which is I am so over the hospital. Over.  Done.
I'm tired of his room even though they have done everything they can to make us all comfortable.  I'm tired of all the noise even though I know it distracts Dad.  I'm tired of eating out every day and not being able to cook for my family.  I'm tired of leaving in the morning when everyone is asleep so I can be there when the doctors come by.  (But thank you to Dr. Warshauer for that reassuring and only slightly disturbing pep talk this morning, Dad loved it) I'm tired of trying to make sure we have help when we come home (a huge thank you to Vance for subtly nagging my mother for me)  I'm tired of existing in this loop between Dad's room and the therapy room (shout-outs here for Allen and Patrick who have helped Dad improve EVERY day) I am just tired of the hospital.
Last night Dad started worrying that he was never going to get home.  As much as I know it's irrational, I also understand it.  He's tired of the hospital, too.  We are all ready to go home.

One Word for 2011

I started hearing about this a few years ago.  A local minister asked his congregation to consider coming up with a word to inspire them for the coming year instead of resolutions.  It's a phenomenon that has happened all over the place and in my online world I have seen it in various places.  My father and I started talking about what word we would use for 2011.  I was very curious to hear what his word was going to be.  He is four weeks into a recovery process that is guaranteed to last at least 4-8 weeks longer.  When I arrived at the Rehab Hospital yesterday, he told me he had settled on a word.  Dad's word for the year is "Faith."  Do I even have to say that I cried?
I have been wrestling with words and ideas, trying to figure out what my one word would be.  It hit me like a bolt of lightning. 
Challenge
I need to remember that I have what I need to meet any challenge that comes my way.  Doesn't mean they will be easy, doesn't mean they will be resolved in a way that I will like, but I can meet them.  The other half of that word is that I need to challenge myself.  I find comfort in routine and the familiar, but I consistently feel like I am being called to step out of what I know.  I need to challenge myself more. I'm not sure what that's going to look like, but you can be certain I will let you know. 
And what about you? Do you have a word or resolutions you have made for 2011?