Aphasia Day

Yesterday I had an opportunity to attend Dad's weekly group therapy session for aphasia patients. I confess that when I first heard that part of dad's outpatient rehab would involve these weekly gatherings, I was seriously dubious. Dad's just not a group therapy sort of person! I couldn't imagine him participating in a break out session, or a small group exercise, or anything of the sort.

But fortunately, my doubts have turned out to be altogether incorrect. Dad really seems to enjoy spending time with the patients in the group, and has developed an excellent rapport with the group leader, a very dynamic and charasmatic speech therapist named Maura Silverman. Most of the patients deal with much more serious impediments than Dad faces. Most -- but not all -- of the patients have suffered strokes, but all have had some sort of brain injury. Some of them struggle with apraxia (another speech function disorder) in addition to aphasia, others have significant physical challenges, and still others are working to recover everyday functions such as recognizing numbers and letters. And yet despite their many differences, they all seem to genuinely enjoy being in a community of shared goals. I witnessed much laughter, many smiles, and a great deal of mutual affection.

Spending a little time with the group helped me understand just how well Dad is doing, and how amazing it is that he's progressed so far in such a short period of time. Likewise, Dad also seems to have gained an important sense of perspective. About midway through the group session yesterday, he came over to where I was sitting and took a little break. He was more reflective than I once would have imagined possible, and I was so pleased and encouraged to hear his comments about this experience. "These are all good people," he said, "and being with them makes me so thankful to be in the condition I'm in." We talked about the different ways the group members had sustained their injuries -- one young member was invovled in a terrible cycling accident, another member has just recently had a portion of her skull replaced after surviving numerous complications that required her to wear a helmet for several months. And Dad also made an important point: lots of people who suffer brain damage don't make it at all. He seems to be truly grateful to be alive, and that perspective seems to have made a tremendous difference to his outlook.

Next week Mom and Dad are flying back to Rhode Island with me to visit for a few days. Who would have thought 10 weeks ago that he'd be able to make such a long trip? I'm constantly amazed by the speed of his recovery; he's such a strong, resilient person.

And on the 31st of this month, Mom and Dad will celebrate their 45th anniversary. What a wonderful gift to have had all these years together -- and to be able to look ahead to many more to come.

Belated Update

Lots has happened since the last time I posted. Dad's recovery continues at a rapid pace. He has completed the physical therapy portion of rehab, which consists primarily of working to build balance and mobility functions. This is not to say, however, that Dad's completely back to his pre-stroke condition. A bit of weakness in his right leg remains, and he still has a ways to go with recovering his full right hand fine-motor skills. Of course, these are minor impediments that will likely be corrected with time, and it's amazing that he's come so far in just over 10 weeks.

Dad's physical recovery has been so swift, in fact, that he's returned to working in the garden and around the farm, especially on Saturday morning--always the big chore time--when he has help from Lee. Of course, Dad's undaunted approach to work has been essential for returning to this sort of demanding physical activity. Even when faced with a challenge, he just charges ahead and works through it.

Earlier this week he decided it was time to get back to additional everyday activities, namely using his computer. It seems that some of his computing skills disappeared with the stroke, and so he and Mom have arranged to begin weekly private instructional sessions at the Apple store in Raleigh. Apparently the in-store training staff has training in working with stroke survivors, and so Dad and Mom are both very excited to get going with this new adventure.

Another everyday skill he hopes to recover soon is driving. His therapists at the rehab center will begin working towards this goal soon; they have a battery of tests, as well as in-the-center driving exercises, to determine when he's road-ready. Any of you who know Dad will surely appreciate how difficult it's been for him to be only a passenger for this long!

Meanwhile, Mom and Dad have just enjoyed a very long visit from Matt, Elizabeth, Lucy, and Simon, who were able to spend two weeks in Pine Ridge. Matt and Elizabeth provided much help and support around the house and farm, and Mom tells me that Lucy and Simon kept Dad company and made him smile. What better therapy can a grandfather get?

Mom is doing really well. Of course, she has gained tremendous strength and support from all the family members who live close by, and from the wonderful community at Pine Ridge Baptist, and from all her dear friends from Rocky Mount and elsewhere. She's also done some reading that has been very helpful, both in terms of encouraging her through difficult moments, and by helping her understand the nuts and bolts -- medical, physiological, psychological, etc. -- of what happens during a stroke. Two books in particular are Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of Insight and Norman Doidge's The Brain that Changes Itself.

Thanks to all of you who have visited Dad recently. He really seems to thrive on this sort of contact, and any opportunity he can have to engage in conversation, initiate discussion, and just make chit-chat with friends is incredibly helpful.