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.