Derek made leaps and bounds within the first 24 hours. His scar is wicked huge.
The doctors weren’t very communicative our first or second night at the UIHC. I was disappointed. Granted, I didn’t really know what I was expecting but it was something … more.
We’ve all heard “We’re just going to need to give it some time.” And, “It takes time; everyone’s different.” I was inpatient. He should be getting better by now. He should be able to speak. He should be able to at least feel his right side. Right?
Speaking again came in due time, but it was a struggle. After surgery, I was right by his side as soon as I could be. After his first stroke, we talked in detail about things he remembered and he vividly recalled saying his name. He couldn’t get my name down at first – he has always called me Jennifer. Naturally the first thing I said to him was, “I love you. Are you okay?” I was expecting “first stroke Derek” but I didn’t get that.
He paused and looked at me and then I panicked. What if he didn’t recognize me or know who I was? Instinctively I said, “Say my name…” Hindsight, I could’ve thought of a better phrase and I regret that now. He repeated me, “Say my naaame.” Oh! He could speak! Yay us! And that’s all we’ve heard since…”Say my naaame.”
Sometimes he gets other words in there. He did say “Jennifer” and I recorded it, but watching it is super emotional because we both cried. That’s the most important thing I’ve learned about all of this so far: it really is the little things. You take for granted every day going ons. You say your partner’s name and it’s no big deal, right? After a stroke it sure is. He said Keegan three times the other night but it’s always right after a few million “Say my names”. I would insert an eye roll emoji here if I knew how.
Things progress very slowly and then you miss a second and all of the sudden he’s passed a test or a milestone that doctors told me he wouldn’t.
We saw the doctors after his surgery very briefly. They mainly stood there and asked how his first stroke recovery was and if he had any side effects. I told them that he was non-compliant with his meds and he’s very stubborn, but other than that the only effects were emotional or psychological; nothing anyone but me and the kids could see. After the first stroke, he walked normal, he talked normal; it was like nothing had happened except he was very quiet. He’s much more emotional than he was before. All of these things the kids and I just accepted as our new normal because they didn’t really affect us … not like this stroke.
This stroke is much different. He’s almost child-like, he gets super excited and yells when I walk into his room and as soon as I’m close enough he pulls me close to him and doesn’t let go. I can’t tell if he’s ever in pain but I know he is “ornery” or “rambunctious.” That was the nurse’s nice way of telling me he had been acting up that day. {Another eye roll, if you will}. A nurse told me last night that she thinks he yells to get her attention so someone will just look at him. He doesn’t need anything but he wants you to look at him. That made me elle oh elle because that is so Derek.
At first we watched his oxygen which was too low and his blood pressure was too high. He ripped out his breathing tube and so they put a mitt on him and restrained his left wrist. When they tried to take the restraints off, he yanked out his feeding tube. He was back in a restraint shortly after. That seems to be our major holdup getting to inpatient rehab: video monitoring and his restraints. Once we can get those off we can move to inpatient rehab.
More waiting.
The Real O.G.'s. 