No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed!

Chris, Kelsey and the kids drove to our house Friday evening. It was a classic dark and stormy night. They didn't get here until almost 10:30 p.m., and were pretty worn out.

Saturday morning, before we left the house to go get breakfast, Clara had an irresistible urge to jump on the bed. What goes up must come down, and in this case HARD onto the floor. For the rest of the day, walking was difficult. At times she had to be carried. So, in the afternoon Kelsey and I took her to the urgent care clinic. After a few x-rays and an assessment by the doctor, we felt better knowing that, though her foot was probably sprained, she had no broken bones. She left the clinic sporting a bandaged foot.



This morning Clara was still limping, and not happy having a sock and shoe put on her foot. But she suffered through church, and then we came home for lunch. Chris and Kelsey left, around 2:30, to go back home. Clara and Robert stayed here with us, and we'll take them home on Wednesday.

Shortly after Chris and Kelsey left, the sun came out. It had been pretty stormy all the while they were here, so the kids couldn't get outside to play. By dinner time it was like a summer day -- blue skies, sunshine, and warm temperatures. The kids wanted to go outside, and Grandpa and I thought a little fresh air would be just the ticket. Amazingly, Clara's foot no longer hurt. "Not at all, Grandma!" Try as we might to uphold the doctor's orders to not run, we failed. When she went to bed later, she still said her foot felt "just fine," so I guess we didn't do any damage.




We also spent a little time in some quieter activities - Clara with her new Light Bright set and both of them playing with my robotic dog, Rocky.



Both children are down for the night now (we hope), and we're calling it a successful day!

Home Sweet Home - Update on Mom

The plan is for Mom to go home tomorrow morning, a little more than two months after taking the fall that landed her in the hospital and, later, the Lakeview care facility. It's the day she's been yearning for, and I'm so happy for her.

I will travel down to Carlsbad tomorrow morning, probably arriving around 2:00 in the afternoon. That way I can be there for her first two or three nights at home. I'll either come home on Monday or Tuesday, depending on how she is doing.

She tells me she is pretty mobile, with the help of a walker, now. Home health care will be coming to visit her on a regular basis, and the physical therapist from Lakeview will also be coming to her house, to continue working with her.

Thanks to all of you who have sent your love and encouragement her way. It meant a lot to her.

Things Are Looking UP

I just talked with Mom. She said it has been a good day (it's been awhile since she felt that way).

First of all, her quarantine was lifted today. She's been released from her little room, and was free to visit with others and, even, have her meals in the dining room.

And, secondly, she participated in a meeting this morning, where plans for her discharge were discussed. The plan is, now that she's free to go to the rehab room again, to intensify her therapy, working on strength and balance. They feel like she will probably be ready to go HOME in ten days to two weeks. She's so excited about it.

She's no longer in a lot of pain. She's still dealing with her right foot, which is swollen and sore from the medicine-induced gout. It keeps her from being able to wear a shoe on that foot, but, after all she's been through, she doesn't seem to be too concerned about this.

I might mention (though she probably wouldn't want me to) that she was pretty surprised by her cell-phone bill this last cycle. Of course, all those many phone calls were better than any medicine during those darker days of this recovery - and she appreciates that. However, I've recently taken to calling her after 7:00 p.m. (Mountain Daylight Time) or on weekends, when her minutes are free. If you are only going to talk a few minutes, I don't think you need be concerned; but if you want to have a nice, long chat, maybe evening or weekend hours would be best.

Thanks to all of you who have suffered through this time with Mom; who have sent cards and/or letters; who have cheered her on through phone calls; and who have kept her in your prayers.

CORRECTION to Previous Entry

Mom just called again. They were able to get the IV in her arm there at Lakeview, so didn't have to transport her to the hospital.

Mom - Today

Mom, who is still at Lakeview, has been sick for three days or so. Her doctor ordered some tests and found that she is seriously low in . . . you guessed it . . . Potassium! She just called me to say that they are about to transport her back to the ER at the hospital, where they can insert an IV and get some Potassium into her system quickly. I'll try to talk to her later tonight, and find out how everything is going.

Thanks to those who are keeping her in your prayers.

Chris and the GTI

Chris, as a teenager, had a propensity for crashing cars. I think that most of the accidents could be attributed, quite simply, to inexperience . . . or to engaging the gears of the car before engaging the gears of his brain. The one that we all remember most clearly was when he wrecked his Dad's VW Rabbit GTI, the American version of the high performance Golf GTI - truly a hot little car.

It seems to me that Chris had been going on a Saturday outing with his (then) girlfriend's family - I think it was to the air show in Hillsboro, but I could be mistaken about that. Dan, Tim and I were out that morning, also, just running typical weekend errands.

When we got home, lying on the kitchen counter were Chris' driver's license, the car keys, and a note, written in his own scrawly handwriting. The note read something like this: "I know you'll be wanting these, so here they are. I had an accident. I'm not hurt. Dad's car is parked in the parking lot at Select Groceries. I'm at the airshow [?]. Back tonight. [signed] Chris."

Of course, Dan dashed over to take a look at his sweet car, which, as he discovered, was no longer so sweet. Among other things, the frame was bent, and Dan determined it could never be restored satisfactorily.

It was before the days of cell phones, so we had to wait until that evening to get the rest of the story from Chris. He had been driving down Hwy. 99, which runs right through Newberg. A package of gum, which had been on the dash, fell on the floor, and Chris leaned over (while still driving) to pick it up. Sadly, the truck, ahead of him, slowed to a stop. And Chris didn't. That was one very expensive package of gum, before the day was over.

The GTI had been Dan's all-time favorite car, hands down. Of course, he was thankful that Chris hadn't been hurt, but, none the less, he truly grieved over the loss of his car.

Years later, after Chris was grown and on his own, Dan commented on a new Mustang he had bought. "I think I even like this better than my GTI,"* said Dan. (That was before he tried driving it in Juneau, in the snow.) I remember Chris' response, "Dad, you don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say those words!"

Since then we've had a number of vehicles that both Dan and I have enjoyed, and, of course, it's unlikely that Dan would still have that little 1980's vehicle, even if it hadn't been crashed. But, for some reason, that doesn't seem to relieve the little heartache that's rekindled every time he's reminded of his little white Rabbit GTI.

*Edit: After Dan read this post, he corrected me on the quote about the Mustang. He says he didn't say he liked it "better," but that he "might like it as much as" the GTI. (I told you there is still a little heartache inside him!)