Mark has decided that writing on the blog gives him a headache and is just too difficult at this time. We've even tried simple crossword puzzles and he complains about pain in his head then too.
Mark continues to make progress at rehab. His arm, hand and finger strength and agility have gotten good enough for him to soon graduate occupational therapy. He annoys the therapists when he asks what occupation they are grooming him for with their pinch tests and the tedious process of putting pegs in holes and taking them out again within a set amount of time. He could probably be CEO of that company by now.
I think his speech therapist is ready to graduate him too. He was given a list of sentences from which to write a story. He chose "The mailman rang the doorbell with a package that needed additional postage. I went into the other room to get my purse and...” Don't we ALL think that this is the beginning of a lewd x rated story? And who's surprised that Mark did and actually typed (on the computer no less) an entire story worthy of Playboy? When his therapist asked him to read it aloud to her (she had no idea at this time) he chose not to (maybe a little remorsefully) so, without knowing what she was getting into, she read it aloud to him. Now, I wasn't there for this event, but I sat in his therapy session the next day and she had a few questions for him. After Mark and I discussed this event, he decided an apology was in order and did so the following day.
I took Mark to the cowboy shoot on Sunday morning. We had a nice ride to quaint Quinton NJ, had lunch, saw some of the other cowboys and went home.
Today we went to the store to buy an eye patch but they didn't have any. We'll have to purchase one online. He did however buy a talking watch. I don't think I'll ever go three minutes without knowing the time.
While we were in center city today we stopped by the sixth floor of Jefferson Hospital for Neuroscience and visited the nurses. I'd never before seen some of them soften their stern look and one of the nurses actually got tears in her eyes. They said this is one of those days that they work for. When we got off the elevator and stopped at the family waiting room, I told Mark that was where I spent most of those horrible eight weeks and told him there was a roomful of people going through the same thing. He told them all to hang in there, that he walked back into the hospital on his own just a few months later. I've never seen so many people smile in unison like I did then. I remember being there one day when a woman and her husband (in a wheel chair) came into the room. He was back for a doctor’s appointment. He had had a similar brain bleed to Mark's. I thought at the time that they were very lucky people, and it gave me hope for Mark. I hope Mark's words helped those people today.
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