7 days

Sunset from Maine Medical  1/3/2013

Dad stayed at Maine Medical for 7 days. For 7 days we all travelled down to Portland to see him. There were a couple of days PJ couldn’t make it because of prior commitments, there was a day Mom needed a break for herself and stayed home. I had to go. Part of taking care of me was to know that someone, one of us was with Dad, otherwise I would have worried and stressed myself out. No one likes to be around me when I'm stressed out. 
It is a strange site to see someone you know in the hospital, it was the most surreal to see Dad. There he was, someone who loved to talk rendered speechless, someone who could not sit still for five minutes rendered immobile.

We were there so many days it started to become a routine. We would all meet up usually within a half an hour of one another, mom would sit in the room with Dad, PJ and I would go into the waiting room. Between the two of us, PJ and I must have looked up and read any and everything surrounding strokes, whether it was about the patient them self or about the caregivers. Dad slept most of this time. He always did like his naps and now he took full advantage of it. Around noon we would grab Mom and head down to the cafeteria to have lunch. The first day we went for lunch we sat at a table and that table ended up being available every day we went down there. We laughed every day we would turn the corner to see that table available. Creatures of habit we all are, so it became our table, just as the waiting room became our waiting room.

2nd floor waiting room taken by PJ

Another view taken by PJ

They had Dad in a room and on three separate occasions he tried to “escape”, pulling himself out of bed and standing on his good leg. So they had to move him to a nurses room that had someone in it at all times. As Dad became less dis-oriented at the unfamiliar surroundings he was in, he settled into the spot they had him in and wasn't so much of a flight risk. They ended up putting a feeding tube down his nose, because his gag reflex was not working. He ripped it out in the middle of the night. It was uncomfortable. One thing about Dad, he has no tolerance for pain. He never has. As a result of him not wanting the feeding tube down his nose, they ended up performing a PEG procedure that allowed for a tube to be inserted into his stomach and what I called the “feed bag” attached. Then they were at least able to pump his body full of enough calories to sustain him and give him the energy he needed for his recovery.

It was recommended when Dad was well enough to begin rehab, that he be moved to an acute rehab facility and we decided on the acute rehab located within Eastern Maine Medical Center. It is the only one in the state of Maine to be located in an actual hospital, something I liked if the need arose where something went wrong and Dad had to have any imaging done or needed to see a Doctor right away, it would only be a matter of moving him from floor to floor. On the sixth day of Dad being in Portland, on the sixth day of me travelling down there to be with him, we received word that he would be transported to Bangor the next day. I remembering commenting that it never took much to make me happy and I was so happy at hearing this news. When I left the hospital that day I promised to see Dad up in Bangor the following day, thanked the nurses who took care of him saying, no offense to them but I wasn't going to be coming back the next day and left Maine Medical for the last time. I smiled the whole drive home. Now Dad could begin what we all knew would be a long recovery, but an optimistic, hopeful recovery. The following morning, on the seventh day, Dad left Portland and was moved back up to Bangor. It was the first time in a week we all let the air we had been holding in go, if just a little.